


Shattered

by PrincessJ



Category: The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Damaged, Daryl the care giver, Denise gets to be a therapist, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, PTSD RECOVERY, Rape Recovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 39
Words: 138,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessJ/pseuds/PrincessJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It lingered with him as they walked, the sight of her tied to a tree. She was still a her to him, even if she had already turned, she was still a person. He wasn't sure why, usually once someone was dead they were a thing. Daryl had been the one to end it, putting his knife into her forehead. Not before he had seen it though the W carved into her forehead. It was like the others the walkers near the canning factory. Maybe it was the fear she must have felt that made her image stick with him, being chased down and killed that was different you could still try. Dying like that, in utter helplessness, that was something different.</p><p>Daryl and Aaron stumble upon on of the wolves victims that day in woods, only this one is still alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Found

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Readers,  
> I have had this little story on my computer for a while now. I have a rough map of where I want it to be and at least five more chapters already written. I thought the idea of finding one of the wolves victims alive like that would be an interesting thing to explore. 
> 
> I don't have a beta so if anyone id interested let me know I will love you forever. Your comments and Kudos give me life. Be honest please I love hearing what you guys think.

It lingered with him as they walked, the sight of her tied to a tree. She was still a her to him, even if she had already turned, she was still a person. He wasn't sure why usually once someone was dead they were a thing. Daryl had been the one to end it, putting his knife into her forehead. Not before he had seen it though the W carved into her forehead. It was like the others the walkers near the canning factory. Maybe it was the fear she must have felt that made her image stick with him, being chased down and killed that was different you could still try. Dying like that, in utter helplessness, that was something different.

They walked on now in silence, looking for the man in the red poncho, or the men who had killed her whatever came first. Daryl wouldn't mind if he found that men that killed her, he would kill them. That was justice now, in the new world an eye for an eye. Aaron struggled with this new world, he could tell. It was savage and dark. It changed because it had too, life behind the walls hadn't changed much, not like this. 

The sun was setting low light shining through leaves, the forest had a different sound, different smell. They should be heading back soon, but when Daryl glanced back Aaron was still walking no signs of slowing. They had found the man Morgan, but it wasn't enough for Aaron. He believed that there were good people out here somewhere waiting to come back with them. Daryl wasn't so sure; he has spent a lot of time in this new world.

“Little further,” Daryl muttered. “Then we head back, ain’t seen any sign of people in a while.” His hand reached out moving a branch before it caught him in the face.

Aaron moved closer, “I thought we would see at least someone, one-person, one other person.” Aaron sighed thinking of the man they had found before Morgan; he was a good man he saved them there wasn't a lot of that going on now a days. 

“Ain't many left out here, and if they are we may not wanna find them.” He thought about her when he said it, the dead girl tied to the tree with the W carved into her forehead. He heard it just then a thin shrill scream and then stopped. A twig cracked under his foot, turning he pressed his finger to his lips. Aaron was wide eyed, but he stopped moving and listened. 

There was a sound again and this time he could hear the direction, off to the left. Choked sobs, mumbled incoherent pleas. He was running then, ducking under branches, jumping over fallen debris on the forest floor. His crossbow was already in his hand, arrow ready. Crashing through the brush he saw them, the man stood in front of her. He was pulling up his pants, and she, she was silent head slumped to the side.

The flying arrow sliced through the air, preaching his head before he even had the chance to turn. Daryl could see the girl now, tied just like the last one red cut down the left of her forehead. The image of the other women flashed in his mind, this is how they leave them. A cold rage boiled inside him, a heavy booted foot kicked the man head in when he closer.

He was already cutting her down when Aaron came up behind him.

“Oh God,” Aaron whispered. He took off the coat he wore and draped in over her limp naked form. “They were just going to...” He trained off turning his head and running his hands over his face as if to calm himself. Daryl only grunted slipping his arms under her head and legs lifting her up.

She was naked, skin marked with dirt and blood. Under it all she may have been a light caramel color, but it was hard to tell. In the dying light the bruising looked like a water color painting, yellows and green, black and purples. Her hair was a matted mess of brown locks, framing a heart-shaped face. She didn't wake when Daryl lifted her, never stirred once. The two men didn't speak only walked in the direction of Alexandria, never once questioning bringing her, there never was a question.


	2. Darkness

In the darkness they came for her, grasping fingers, hollow eyes. Hungry hands and mouths, seeking her flesh and always finding it. She always fought them, always. Not to fight was to die, and she wasn't ready to die. The scene was always the same, she was always running. She was always in the woods the world seemed to be mad of woods. Voices in the darkness called to her as she ran with promises of safety, but she never stopped.

In the end it never mattered how far she thought she was getting, they would catch her. This must be hell, she thought when she felt the hot breath on her face. This was the compilation of all of her sins, everything she had done to survive this world had created this for her. Fingers dug into her arms faceless shapes holding her still, she twisted, kicked, pitched her body upwards trying to be free. Always fight, she told herself, always.

“Daryl hold her down!” Wait that was different, they never had names before. “I can't get the IV in if she isn't still.” They were never women before; this was a woman's voice. Pandora struggled more, eyes opening seeing nothing but bright blinding lights. Her hell was changing, she thought. The faces of the women she failed to save swam in her vision. They screamed and wailed, mouths filling with blood. She screamed the sound like fire burning inside her, You should have fought harder! She screamed at them trying to free herself from her grasp.

Then a pinprick right in her arm, and everything went still. The faces melted away, their voices dying in the darkness. Ice rushed into her veins, freezing them making it impossible to even lift her fingers. As her vision cleared a face swam there, long dark hair, bright blue eyes. He looked down at her, almost worried? Frightened?  
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.  
“Sleep now,” She heard him say. “Just sleep.”

Her mouth opened a closed again, like a fish on land gasping. Pandora wanted to scream at them that she couldn't sleep, not now they were always waiting there in the darkness. It was too late, the man's face faded as the icy water pulling her under, sending her stumbling back into the darkness.

The next time she woke up it was slow her mind waking up piece by piece. Out of old habits, she tensed and released each muscle and old gymnast habit. She opened her eyes now, slowly remembering the bright burning lights. For the first few moments after she opened her eyes she just lay there. Be still, she told herself, be still. In the stillness, she heard her own breathing, slightly erratic little gasps of air. Something else, another breath, this one long deep. Sleeping, someone was sleeping here. Here, where was here she dimly wondered.

Slowly she tried to lift her arms, nothing happened, but something tightened against her wrists. Panic flared for a moment, and she let it come up like a wave crashing over her but like the tide, she waited for it to recede. Her feet were the next thing she tried to move, again nothing just the feeling of being held. Tied, she was tied down. Wiggling her body, she felt the surface under her strong and soft. a bed, she realized with a small content sigh, god how long had it been since she was in a bed.

An image of the apartment building flashed in her mind, the mattresses on the floor in the sleeping room. In a moment she was there again, flipping through the pictures found in the now empty apartments laughing with Lilly. Her heart gave a tight painful squeeze at the memory. Go away, she willed the image, this was not a time for that.  
What is this, she thought suddenly when the memory had passed. This is how she will die. Pandora was bound again it must be in a forest, she couldn’t hear it now but this was how they left everyone else why would she be different. Her mind was tricking her she decided, trying to ease the way into death. That was fine, she would rather just float away into memory.

“Hey, ” She jumped head whipping to the side. The calm acceptance of her death shattered.

There he was again, the man with the blue eyes watching her. “We ain't gonna hurt you.” He said hands raised in the air. He didn't move from his chair, but his eyes stayed fixed on her. “I found ya out there, in the woods, I brought ya here.” Again he stopped watching her, but she didn't speak only stared large brown eyes flicking nervously. “You've safe here, we have walls to keep the dead ones out, we tied you down cause you tried to hurt yourself, tried to hurt us.”

She didn't remember that she didn't remember seeing anyone else. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out, only a strangled sob. Tears streamed down her face, it must be a trick, there was no such thing as safe anything the world was over. Chest tightening, she gasped, sucking in air. It never seemed like enough. Panic flared, the old friend. It kept her alive before it would now, she knew it. Still struggling to breathe she pulled at her arms, feeling the material rubbing her skin raw. She tried to keep pulling, but the tightness in her chest continued. The edges of her vision started to blur, choked sobs broke free.

This was worse then the memories she decided in her panic, this trick, this was cruel. Let me die, she wanted to scream. She was finished now, tired her minds tricks ready just to sleep, sleep forever.

Her head turned to him, who would become when the real world came back into view. He never changed though only his eyes panic flickered in them, he jumped up opening the door and sticking his head outside. “Denise!!!” He screamed. The sound rocked her ears, making her close her eyes. Fake, fake, fake she scolded herself. This dream was worse, she preferred the ones where she was running she knew how they ended.

There was a woman in the room now, she touched her hand. “Shhh, shhh” She cooed at her like she was a child crying. “She's having a panic attack,” The women said over her shoulder. The man was there behind them, a small light on behind him outlining his shape. The women was looking at her again. “It's ok. I promise it's ok.”

It was too much, too much noise to much light, too much information. Pandora was slipping away again back into darkness, where she felt safe, where she knew she world she was heading into. The woman touched her arm, her fingers warm on her cold skin. Blinking she turned her head to the side, the women was there the light bounced off the needle in her hand. That was the last thing she remembered before she blacked out again.


	3. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am a few days late. I will be trying to update every Sunday. If you guys want longer chapters let me know! I can make them longer I just thought that 1000 to 1300 words would be a nice length. Also still looking for someone to Beta this story if anyone is interested. 
> 
> For the purpose of this story, the time between Daryl and Aaron coming back and before they go out to deal with the herd is a few weeks.   
> Thanks for reading comments and Kudos give me life.

Chapter 3  
Awake

When Pandora woke the third time, she was ready, and it was different. Taking her time, she opened her eyes, slowly. This is different all of it, if they wanted her dead she would be dead. No one else had ever taken care of her before, she wasn't hurt, she was better even. Pandora tested her fingers, they moved. Her wrist, it moved. She lifted slowly above her head, a deep cut on her forearm had been covered. She started the process of testing her muscles 

Slower now she sat up the room shifted and pitched to the side, her eyes closed a few deep breaths later she opened them again. The room was straight again; it was small a door to the right two windows on the adjacent wall. Turning her head to the right she saw another door this one closer to her. It was a room, a nice room. Where, she wondered a house, no how they be so stupid. 

Fear bubbled up inside her, pushing past her lips in a little hysterical laugh. She must be dead, or this was some new kind of torment the wolves had thought of for her. Why because she still chooses to fight, she would always fight not fighting meant dying, dying was something she was not ready to do. The feeling of hot bodies pressing against her again, she realized she had closed her eyes opening them the room swam into focus for the third time. 

Doors, she told herself she had been looking at the doors. It was so easy to forget what she was doing, so easy to just slip away. Now was not the time, she scolded her wondering thoughts. 

A pressing feeling on her bladder made her wonder if one of the doors lead to a washroom. A tug on her arm when she tried to move made her turn. An IV was stuck into her hand the tube leading to a clear bag hanging on a pole to her right. Fuck she thought. The pressure was growing, and her thirst was growing which was not a good combination.

Shutting her eyes, she wrapped shaking fingers around the tube and pulled. It didn't hurt, when she opened her eyes bright red blood leaked from where the needle had come from. The sight of the blood cause the panic to flow up again, she remembered nail marks scratches, visits in the night. Her breathing quickened, blood dripped onto the white sheets she stopped moving.

Pandora’s legs swung over the side of the bed, Go she yelled at her body willing it into motion. The floor pitched rising up to meet her tumbling form. The tears came then, or had they been coming before now she was not sure. Her body lay sideways on the ground pain traveling up her arm, a warm feeling spreading on her skin. Just work! She wanted to scream. Just work! If she couldn't stand she couldn't run, and it always came down to running no matter where she thought she was.

“Shit!” A man's voice cursed slamming the door shut footsteps thudded around the bed. She hadn't even heard anyone come in, but there he was the one with the blue eyes. He stopped there a few feet from her, hands outstretched face a cool controlled calm. “Hey.” He whispered. 

Hey, Pandora want to open the box? A voice sneered at her from somewhere in her head, no, no this was not the same man. She was not in that place, she was in another place a different place, with strangers still though everyone was a stranger now. 

Pandora sat pushed into the corner of the room, as if is she pressed hard enough the wall would open her up and take her away with it. He looked down at her a ghost of an emotion flashed in his eyes before it was gone.

Getting down into a squat in front of her, he blinked. “Can I see your hand.” He asked keeping his voice low and calm. 

Pandora blinked pushing back just a bit more, the panic gripped her. For a moment she couldn't speak, unable to form her quick jumping thoughts into words. The pressure on her bladder was like a lightening bolt through the panic attack getting her brain moving again.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” She whispered. He only nodded moving closer reaching his arms out. This seemed insane, a part of the brain could see that. Asking this man, she knew from nowhere to help her find the bathroom. 

“I ain't gonna hurt you.” He said it again, this time, his hands were out palms facing upwards. 

She nodded, still crying unable to stop. He leaned holding her arm gently to lift her up. Once standing she swayed, shaking hands gripped his vest to steady herself. He walked slowly, thankfully helping her into the washroom. Once inside they both stopped, clearly no one had thought this through. 

Looking up she stood straighter, the room no longer moved, her legs no longer gave in with her weight. They wanted to she could tell, the tiny tremble told her she wouldn't be standing for long.

The man moved her over to the toilet cleared his throat then turned his back to her and left. She stood gripping the toilet before going about her business. When Pandora she finished she just sat there, her shoulders slumped. The room was beautiful looking, the tall glass shower seemed to call her name. Whispered to her with its promise of clean water, warm even. It had to be warm they had lights, lights meant power. Could she manage a shower, even a short one and she wouldn't feel the walking dead anymore.

There was a sharp knock on the door. “You alright?” He called. Daryl, she remembered hearing the name before. Somewhere in the darkness bits of pieces of conversation floated back to her, he was always there. When she didn't answer right away he opened the door stepping inside waiting for hand on the handle. 

What did she look like to him, she wondered. What made that look creep onto his face when he saw her. He probably saw someone broken, frightened. She was frightened she knew, somewhere behind everything else she felt that fear, tasted in just in the back of her mouth. 

Turning she balled her hands into fists and stood, but the movement was too fast and she was still too unstable on her feet. Cold marble smashed into her knees, her hands barely had time to catch herself before her face make contact with the floor. A sob pushed out of her, darkness threatened. 

He was right there, though. Moving faster than she thought he could. Without a word he was lifting her, arm under her legs the other holding her at the waist. Pandora tensed at first a protest bubbling to her lips, panic flaring. The images came again, phantom fingers on her skin. She screamed shoving at him, it was no use her hands hardly brushed him. 

He kept moving ignoring her hands trying to bat him away, “Please, please, please.” She managed. Begging, they loved it when she begged it only made them want her more. He stiffened under her moving with more rapid steps, eager to put her down maybe.

Gently he set her down on the bed again, looking down at her as he did so his hands moved the blankets covering her lower half again. Her fingers clung to the smooth fabric of the sheets, hands balling into fists. With his hands off her she could think again, she could remember that there was time before when he didn’t hurt her. But everyone hurts, a voice said slowly was that her own voice, she was unsure now. His chair was there right beside the bed she was in, he lowered himself into it. Reaching over he placed a plate in front of her, it had an assortment of dried fruits and nuts. 

Shaking she reached for it, her body wared against her, her stomach demanded it her brain panicked. She chose her stomach, this time, taking small bites chewing until it was paste in her mouth then swallowing. Killing her with poised food would be a waste of food she thought as she finished the plate.

She wasn’t sure how long she ate, but whatever amount of time passed the man, Daryl she reminded herself, watched her in silence. She glanced at him a few times, to make sure he was real. Sometimes she couldn’t tell the difference all her nightmares seemed real too. He was older, or maybe not maybe the world had hardened him. His hair hung long on his head reaching past his ears, his eyes were clear and bright, though. Lights in the fog. 

Her hands tightened on the blanket twisting the material in her fingers, the plate was gone now. Had he moved it? Or had she? Why couldn’t she remember that? She looked at him again, her mouth opened again no sound. She waited to take a few slow breaths “Pandora.” She finally said her name feeling thick on her tongue. 

He only nodded. “Daryl”

“I remembered you. The first time I woke up, I remember seeing you.” She was talking now the words coming faster, the memories rushing in with them. “You found me.” She was whispering again, the memory of being left out there to die came flashing back. She felt the ropes holding her still, the roughness of the tree against her as she panicked. She could smell the forest, his rotten breath, his hands on her. She had to turn away, her chest felt tight again her breath quickened.

“Ah did.” Leaning forward he put a hand on top of her. “Take a deep breath.” He encouraged. She screamed pulling her hand away from his like he burned her. She tried to breathe, but it was never enough.

Panic and anxiety rose up, she pictured the woods felt the ropes against her skin, felt hot breath on her cheeks. Nails dug into the skin on her arms, the ropes she could feel them if she could only get them off it would be fine. She wasn’t in the room anymore she wasn’t seeing them, she was seeing them yellow teeth and W carved into their skin.

“Fuck” She almost didn't hear it, everything sounded so far away. There was some noise in the room, but she pressed her hands to her ears now. There were other sounds now behind her eyelids the world seemed too loud. She started humming her voice blocking out the other noises. Go away she told herself, just like the other times. Just go away. 

Before she knew it Daryl was holding her hands down away from her face, her eyes were open and she was looking at him. Someone was screaming a harsh horrible sound, his mouth opened speaking to her but she couldn’t hear it not over the screaming. She was screaming she realized now, why was she even screaming. 

Something moved behind her, but she never turned. The familiar feeling of ice in her veins calmed her down, making everything slow and heavy. She hadn't realized she was struggling against Daryl until the tension was melting away from her. Darkness shrugged up with its fingers clawing ripping at her.

Her hands reached out for him, vision floating in blackness.


	4. Learning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! Here is chapter number 4. I'm liking the length I think, short and sweet really. I'm trying to be as true to the characters as I can. But if you have suggestions on how I can improve please let me know. This is my first time writing fiction like this, any tip is a good tip!

Learning   
Denise sighed tossing the needle in the medical waste bin, a sag to her shoulders. The girl had been there for a week already, most of the time she was sleeping and when she was awake it lasted only fleeting moments before she panicked. 

“I can’t keep drugging her,” Denise muttered moving a strand of hair out of her eyes. She placed the used needle in a bin to be cleaned later, waste was not something they did here. “It’s not good for her body.” 

The biker sighed settling back down in the lounge chair beside her bed. “Her names Pandora, she told me before she.” He waved his hand and let the sentence die out, not actually commenting on the issue she had just raised. She huffed a sigh and turned towards him. 

Denise watched him a moment, then slid into the extra chair at his side. “I can try and help her you know; this is what I did before. I helped people like her.” She remarked rubbing her eyes, trying to push a headache she felt blooming behind her eyes away. Now was not the time for her not to be feeling her best. 

“Like her?” His tone was slightly offended, that startled her. The amount of care and concern he had for this women shocked her slightly. She wasn’t someone he had known before, she wasn’t a member of his group he referred to as family, so what was it. Maybe it was how he had found her, he had a hard moral code she had coming to learn. It was unchanging, his concept of right and wrong, fair and unfair.

“People who suffered trauma,” Denise replied slowly taking care with her. “Whatever she went through it was horrible she looks like she has PTSD post traumatic stress syndrome.” There were many signed, Pandora didn’t need to awake for Denise to be able to diagnose her. She had all the classic signs, nightmares, panic attacks, flashbacks it was textbook even. 

“You’d do that?” He questioned harshly, bright eyes fixed on her. 

“This isn’t something you have to do alone; I want to help her.” The conviction was strong in her voice; she watches Daryl nod slowly. “Go get some sleep I’ll stay with her until she wakes up.” 

He only nodded standing he cast one last glance over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him. 

Minutes seems to stretch by like hours, just as she eyes started the close her eyes she heard the women stirring. 

Like Daryl had described the times before she woke up slowly, controlling every aspect of the process. Denise waited until she watched those deep brown eyes open. There was a moment of confusion on her face when she looked at Denise. 

“Hello,” Denise explained softly. “My name is Denise; I am the doctor here I have been helping Daryl take care of you.” Pandora opened her mouth slowly her eyes scanning the room. “Before you say anything,” Denise hurried on her hands up to show that she needed her to stop. “I am going to tell you some things that I need you to remember and then repeat. Nod if you understand me.” 

Pandora nodded slowly, Denise watched her closely noting the way her hands clenched and unclenched around the sheets.   
“Your name is Pandora. Can you repeat that for me?” 

The woman stared at her, eyes scanning Denise’s’ face unsure. Denise felt her heartbeat pick up, but she kept her face calm. Don’t let her see how frightened you are she told herself, you are the doctor now.

Finally, after she took a deep breath she whispered, “My name is Pandora.” 

Denise smiled, “This one may be harder if you start to feel like your panicking show me five fingers and we will stop.” 

Pandora drew her knees up to her chest but nodded her head, knuckles gripping the sheets tightly. All these things Denise watched closely, her trauma was so fresh flashbacks would be common and frequent. 

“You were found by Daryl and Aaron.” Denise watched her closely waiting. 

“I was found by Daryl and Aaron.” Her voice was thick, choking almost. 

“Pandora, take a deep breath.” The women answered with a few deep breaths eyes wide focused. 

“You are safe in Alexandria.” 

“I am safe in Alexandria.” She repeated faster this time. 

Denise grinned leaning back in her chair, “Good Pandora, that’s so good. Next time you get overwhelmed or feel yourself slipping away you say these out loud ok? Can you tell me all three again?”

She watched Pandora gulp and suck in more air, her hands shook where she held them. “My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, I am safe in Alexandria.” Something happened then Denise watched slowly, there was something different in her face, something in her eyes. “My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, I am safe in Alexandria.” 

Denise only grinned pushing more strands of hairs from eyes, “That’s really good Pandora, really good.” She couldn’t get but think about how happy Daryl would be to see her up with a coping method to keep her calm. “I’m going to teach you a few more things, but that’s for after ok? Right now is there anything you need?” 

“A shower.” She answers came fast Pandora was already getting ready to move throwing the blanket off her legs. 

Denise tried not to gap at the state she was in, she hadn’t seen her before this moment. The night Daryl came back with her it was too much chaos, Reg dead Pete dead, she wasn’t ready to be the doctor then. It has been too much then really; it was still too much now if she was honest. But this girl needed her, needed the new doctor Denise and the Psychiatrist Denise. Daryl had taken care of her, cleaning and caring for all of her wounds. She was thankful for that the sight of blood still made her a little bit sick. This was not a normal wound she knew that; this was extreme torture. 

“Sure,” Denise remarked after a moment. She was going to move to help her up, but Pandora was already standing to move toward the bathroom door. “I’ll um wait right here, there are new clothes in there. Shout or call me if you need anything.” The awkward feeling was back with Pandora on her feet. She watched the women move into the bathroom shutting the door behind her. 

Denise slumped down in the chair again feeling the weight of her exhaustion pulling on her eyelids. Her head turned to the window outside the night was dark and still. Her eyes flickered to the watch on her wrist 11 pm no wonder she was so tired. Behind her, the sound of running water lulled her into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Staying Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday everyone. Hope you all enjoyed the weekend! I know I did, actually I did a lot of adulting but it was alright.   
> Anyway here is the next chapter. We start to see more of Daryl speaking now, so if I am a little OOC I do apologise. Still looking for someone to edit for me if anyone is interested!

The soft click of the door closing behind her triggered the sag in her shoulders. The words that the Doctor has just taught her knocked around in her brain. My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, I am safe in Alexandria. These are things that no matter what she knew to be true. Right now at least these things were true now, behind these walls she was safe. Every time she repeated the words her hold on the world in front of her seemed a little more solid. 

Now with her mantra in her head, she could focus enough to only turn on one set of bathroom lights and head to the shower. Her fingers brushed on the helm of the t-shirt she as wearing, wait for a t-shirt, she wasn’t sure when she had put that one. Under the t-shirt was a pair of gym shorts loose fitting hanging around the poor excuse for her legs. Part of her mind panicked, why couldn’t she remember putting on clothes, that was important. 

Everything, since she had woken up the first time, was only bits and pieces, most of it was dreams. She still had a hard time separating what really happened, and what she dreamed about. Fingers and hands in the dark, but also a man with bright blue eyes and a doctor with a kind voice. Which one was true here now, hands clenched tight the panic flared up choking her. 

“My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, I am safe in Alexandria.” It took a few times of her repeating the words before she was able to step into the shower still trembling. With a shaking hand she turned on the water making sure it was slightly above warm, the heat kept her grounded and in control. 

The shower was large, three glass paneled walls against a white tile. Her eyes scanned the sides, there hanging on the shower head was a wire shelf filled with anything she might need. It seemed so out of place, the little bottle of shampoo and conditioner, the small bar of soap. Outside the dead were walking but here, here she could smell like warm vanilla sugar. 

A content sigh escaped her lips as the little rivulets of water ran down her skin. Pandora avoided the glass, not sure she was ready to look at her own reflection. Instead, she looked down watching the dirty water run down the drain, first a deep red, blood and dirt she guessed, then it changed to a dirty grey colour until it finally ran clean. Again she sighed pressing her back against the glass letting herself sink down onto the warm tile floor. 

The water streamed down her face, the moisture weighing her thick wavy hair. Her neck bowed under the weight of it and the steady stream of the water. Knees tucked up her chest she curled into herself. Feeling the water pool in the curves and hollows of her body, it slipped over running down in larger streams. Pandora watched the water running over the multi colours bruising that covered her skin, her stomach turned but she tore her eyes away pressing her face into her knees. 

Her mind wondered then a dangerous activity these days, but still, there were a few things she did not quite understand. The water running over her skin helped her understand that this was the real moment, her sitting in the shower anything else was her mind playing tricks. I need to know she told herself. There were too many things she didn’t understand, too many times she was not present in the moment.   
She remembers when they tied her to the tree, remember when he raped her again.

The memory threatened to surface, but she moved on cataloguing the event in her mind. Then she was here waking up, screaming pulling out her IV. Pandora remembers hearing Daryl now something she didn’t remember before, but no somewhere in her mind, she heard his horse voice whispering to her in the darkness.   
She was there again feeling the hands trying to her down, she remembered the feeling of her hand contacting with flesh, a grunt of pain and the smell of blood.

Then she was pulling at her own skin trying to remove what held her, but she only found skin and kept tearing it bloody. Fingered flicked up to her neck, ah there is was. Lines of skin scratched raw to the point of bleeding, lightly scabbed over now as that was. When did she do that? A few hours ago? Days ago maybe, yes it had to be days. 

“Ya tried to hurt ya self, tried to hurt us.” She remembered hearing that too, shame flared up inside her triggering a flow of tears. She had hit him, the man who saved her took care of her, what kind of a person was she. The sobs came them loud and hard, tearing their way through her body. She tried to quiet them, hands pressed tightly over her mouth, they never stopped. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t gain control. It was too much, her body felt raw every nerve on fire. 

The shower water was rain suddenly like it had been the day they were all taken. The rain making them slow forcing them to stop, causing them to be found. She tried to stop it, cover her head with her arms, she wanted to tell everyone that they could not stop running. But when she looked up, the room was empty. Her own haunted hollow face staring back at her through the glass, features twisted in agony. 

Somewhere to left, she heard footsteps, the door of the shower opened. Then she was standing a large warm towel wrapped around her, her fingers tightened around to try and stop she shaking. Everything seems too loud too bright. Somewhere she heard laughing, a voice telling her this world was for the dead now. 

“Pandora, Pandora? Pandora?” She blinked eyes swinging up to meet Daryl’s. His voice centered her, and she nodded. How long had he been calling her she wondered tilting her head to the side? A while she thought, the tears had stopped now, her face still slightly damp. “Ya need your wounds cleaned, can Ah do it or do you want the Doc to do it?” 

Wounds? she thought. Yes, she did feel them, stinging in her arm, a tight feeling in her side when she took a breath, other small aches, and pains. She blinked a few more times, trying to form the words. Her brain stopped and started like a car with a bad battery. She raised her hand and touched his leather vest, the towel wasn’t around her anymore. In fact, she was dressed she could feel the materials brushing against her skin lightly. 

“Ya want me?” Daryl asked again snapping her back to the present moment. Pandora nodded slowly her hand still tightened around his vest. “Come ‘ere then.” Daryl gently grasped her elbow turning and leading her back to the room. “You gotta sit.” He murmured leading her to the bed and easing her down gently. 

Pandora tried to keep track of how many wounds he cleaned and took care of, but her mind wondered again unable to keep a count. She heard him speaking to her as he worked, but her mind couldn’t seem to get the words to make sense. It didn’t matter the warmth of his hands and the numbing of the pain while he worked lulled her into sleep. 

Sleep again, her mind raged against it. She had just gotten up, sleep again. Her body fought her harder, though, the pulls of sleep making her limbs heavy. Being crazy sure makes you tired she mused to herself feeling her blinks getting longer and longer. Her head fell forward, damp locks falling over to cover her face. 

“Hey, hey.” She heard him say. His fingers touched her hair moving it from her eyes, then she felt him slowly leaning her backwards until she way laying back in the bed. “Alright, sleep then, your all right.” That was the last thing she heard again before she was slipping away into sleep, she didn’t even notice her fingers gripping tightly to his vest. 

When she was finally sleeping Daryl moved to sit down, her sleep her fingers loosened on his vest, until it fell at her side. He watched her for a moment sighing, running his hand over his face. She was better, he could tell. She had let him clean her wounds touch her more then she had let anyone touch her since she got here. It was good to see every day a little bit better, but still, he wondered. 

He wondered if the torment she had been through would ever really go away. Something like that he shuttered, something like that you didn’t just come back from, not right away. He glanced out the window, the sky was beginning to lighten. He had sent Denise away an hour ago, telling her he had gotten enough sleep already. Slumping down lower in the chair his arms crossed over his chest, might as well try and get some more sleep while he could, maybe he had lied to the Doc a bit he could always use more sleep.


	6. Chapter Six Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! Happy Thanksgiving to all of my Canadian readers, I am posting this while my turkey is in the oven and other good things are cooking!  
> Here is a new chapter, and guess what?!?! I have a beta reader now! My wonderful cousin has agreed to edit all the new chapters, I'll give out her username as soon as she gets one. I warned her that I'm already ten chapters deep.   
> So here you go don't forget to comment they legit make me write faster!

Pandora’s life seemed to have boiled down to waking up and falling back asleep. Nothing in between those two moments ever seemed to stick in her memory. This morning, however, was different. For the first time since she had been saved, she awoke to sunlight streaking on the floor of her room. 

Blinking rapidly, she turned her head to the window as she tried to listen to the sound floating in. She waited, letting the sounds wash over her before she fully processed them. She noticed immediately that she heard people, living people. Doors somewhere were being opened then closed. Even the sound of a car was audible. Laughter floated towards her making her stiffen. Pandora rolled her body over to face the window, allowing the rays of sunlight to shine on her face. Her body remained like that for some time as she toyed with the idea of getting up and actually looking out the window. 

Finally, she decided against it. She wasn’t ready to see what was out there as she had a hard enough time simply dealing with what was in this room. She instead decided that another shower would be nice. Before she arrived at Alexandria, she had long since given up the hope of having a shower, now here she was having a second one. It seemed greedy now that she thought about it. For a moment she stood with her fingers wrapped around the door knob. Was it selfish to want another moment in the warm water? No, she decided she put up with enough so she deserved this. 

Since she was alone in her room, this time, Pandora decided to explore the bathroom. For the first time, she turned to look at herself in the mirror. The shock of her own reflection caused her to take a step backwards. The woman that greeted her was not the same one she remembered seeing the last time she looked into a mirror. Her hands crept up to her neck and the scratch marks that were there. Her skin was dull. Old, fading bruises covered the caramel coloured skin of her face. Her neck was covered in long, angry, red scratches. The moment when she caused them flashed in her mind but she immediately pushed the thought away. Her fingers shaking, she ran them through the tangled waves of her hair; the ends were frayed and broken. She then rested her hands around her neck again in an attempt to hide the angry marks she had created. Her eyes were wide and expressed the panic she felt, even now that she was inside a house with people who had been taking care of her.

“My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, and I am safe in Alexandria.” She said to herself as she turned away from the mirror, moisture collecting in her eyes. Blinking, she redirected her attention to exploring the drawers and their contents.

One drawer was stuffed with clothes that appeared to be new, all around her size. Any type of clothing that she might need was in the drawer: jeans, tights, shirts, etc. Another drawer held personal care items like soap, toothpaste, deodorant, and razors. As she picked up a razor, she smiled and a laugh bubbled up from inside her. Who ever thought that she would be able to shave her legs while the world was ending outside? With the razor in her hands, Pandora turned to the shower.

When she was finished, she felt brand new again, almost. Her legs were shaved, her hair was washed and she even put some product through it. The long sleeve shirt she had picked out was soft and comfortable, nothing too tight as she didn’t want it to rub her skin too much. The black tights clung to her skin and she had thick grey socks pulled up to her ankles to keep her toes warm.

Turning, she stepped out of the bathroom and the door clicked close softly beside her. The room was still empty, a sigh escaped her. How long had she been alone? Every time she had opened her eyes she remembered someone being there.

The sounds from outside the window were still coming into the room and before she knew it, her feet were carrying her towards it. She tugged the blinds open, exposing the entire window. The sight below her caused her to stumble back, fingers fluttering to her neck. There was a neighbourhood, with sidewalks, homes, and gates around front lawns. Wide-eyed, she leaned forward and started watching people walk back and forth on the sidewalk in front of whatever building she was in.

The door opened behind her and she whirled around, meeting the eyes of Daryl.

“What is this place?” She breathed hands still at her neck.

He watched her as he stepped inside the room, setting a plate he was holding on the table beside her bed.  
“This is Alexandria,” Daryl muttered sitting down in the chair beside the bed. He moved slowly she noted that every movement seemed calculated.

Pandora was already turning back to the window then, one hand pressing the glass. Someone was walking down the street with a baby stroller while a couple was casually walking down the street with automatic weapons on their backs.

“I must be dreaming then,” She muttered. Her fingers tapped the glass lightly and the red haired man with the gun on his back stopped and turned to look at the source of the sound. His face looked hard and his mouth was surrounded by a red moustache and beard. A squeak escaped her as she stumbled back, hand flying out to close the curtains.

Daryl came up behind her quickly catching her arms as she stumbled. “I’m sorry,” She whispered making no move to move out of his grip as it was warm and grounding. “Someone saw me.” It seemed so silly when she was saying it out loud. Of course, someone saw her; she was standing at a window for god’s sake.

“S’alright, come and eat something.” He said as he stepped back, gesturing to the plate he had brought. She watched him lower himself in a chair before she moved to sit on the bed taking the plate. There was complete silence as she ate. Her gaze flickered up to look at Daryl from time to time, he was always watching her. It wasn’t until she was finished, however, that she spoke to him.

“I don’t think I said thank you.” She whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on top. She watched him, waiting for a response but he just held her gaze. “So Thank you.” She tried again. 

“Couldn’t just leave ya there.” He finally mumbled, suddenly interested in his hands. She titled her head and continued peering at him. He certainly could have just left her there, especially after all the trouble she had caused. She wondered if now he was thinking he would have rather left her. “Wouldn’t have been right.” He added as if he was reading her mind. She suspected that her thoughts must have shown on her face as emotional control was not something she was very skilled at these days.

“Ah saw someone else ,before we found ya there.” Daryl was hunched over now, peering at her through the strands of his long hair.

Pandora knew exactly who he meant: Madison. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thin build. She always cried, never fought back, just always cried. The day she stopped crying was the day they left her there, just like they were going to leave her there. 

Pandora’s chest tightened, hands flying to her neck, fingers fluttering over the hollows of her collar bones. Stop. She thought as a scream almost burst out of her. The thin hold she had on the world in front of her started slipping away. A voice in her mind started to whisper the words the doctor had taught her. Shutting her eyes, she repeated them out loud in a breathy whisper.

“My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, and I am safe in Alexandria. My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron, and I am safe in Alexandria.”

“Ya that’s it,” Daryl was on her bed now, the mattress dipping under his weight.

The mattress reminded her that she was on a bed, in a room, in a house, and behind walls. “My name is Pandora, I was found by Daryl and Aaron and I am safe in Alexandria.” The words were coming out easier now and her breathing was slowing down.

“Look at me,” Daryl’s said in a stern voice. Pandora blinked, then slowly opened her eyes. She saw nothing but calm in the blue eyes that watched her. 

“Breathe like me, ready?” Daryl asked. She nodded, watching him and reaching her shaking hands out for him. His grip was warm and solid, again acting as an anchor, keeping her here in the present. Watching Daryl, she matched his breathing. Slow and steady, in and out. Over and over again until she had stopped shaking and the world was back in focus.

How long they sat like that, Daryl sitting in front of her with their hands locked together, she wasn’t sure. He held her just as tightly as she held him, and it was comforting to feel that pressure.

Daryl released one of his hands, turning away from her. The panic spiked again but only for a moment as she realized that he was reaching for a bottle of water to give to her.

“Drink.” He said, letting go of both her hands to open the cap of the bottle. Taking it, she brought it to her lips and took a long deep drink, the water put out the fire in the throat. The bottle was empty when she put it down on the nightstand, leaning over Daryl to do so.

He opened his mouth to speak, the events before her panic attack were looming in the air around them, but she stopped him. Holding her hand up to silence him, she instead laid her hand over his again.

“I want to go outside.” Her voice was tight but it held a conviction she didn’t know she felt before now. The room was too small, the air too stale. It was too much for her as too many things had happened here and she needed to get out.

Daryl watched her with worry flickering in his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he stood up, offering her his hand to help her up. She took it, allowing him to pull her up from the bed. When he moved to drop his hand she held it tighter. She looked at him, silently pleading for him to not let go.

He nodded as if he understood and started leading her to the door, but when the sounds from the rest of the house floated towards her, the courage she had felt vanished. Oh god, she thought I can’t do this. Looking at Daryl, she noticed that he loomed about a foot over her, forcing him to look down at her.

“Pandora?” Daryl’s voice was low, trying to not to draw attention to them. She blinked; she was standing at the end of the hall now, a set of wooden steps in front of her. Her fingers tightened around his, where did that chunk of time just go? Glancing backwards, she noticed the door to her room was still open at the end of the hallway. They had walked so far without her even noticing, she swore that a moment ago she was standing at her open door.

“Ya ready?” He asked and she shook her head trying to clear it. Letting go of his hand she made her way down the steps, one at a time. That was how she did everything now, just one step at a time.

When she reached the bottom of the steps the smell of disinfectants hit her full in the face. She was standing in a small makeshift hospital it seemed. Behind her rows of beds separated by curtains hanging from the ceiling, it all seemed so odd out of place in a home. Not a home, she reminded herself this was their hospital. 

The sound of a conversation floated towards her. The doctor's voices she knew, another woman and a man. Pandora tensed spinning on her heel to go back to the steps, instead, she slammed into Daryl's chest his hands holding the tops of her arms.

“Ya alright?” He asked quietly. She only nodded trying to get herself together. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life in that one room. “Come on then, this way.” She followed his hand gesturing towards the front door across the room from them. A sharp intake a breath and she was moving towards the door again. 

She passed the doctor with another woman sitting up on her table. Denise beamed when she saw her, the conversation dying as she walked past. 

“Hi,” The women on the bed smiled at her. Pandora only stared unable to make her brain form words. 

“Hello,” The man beside her said nodding at her silence. “Select mutism is common with PTSD we understand completely.” 

She winced casting a glance at Daryl behind her he placed a warm hand on her back and lead her outside. This man must be some kind of mind reader she thought as he opened the door. Cold air rushed into her face causing her to gasp. Without realising it she was moving to the end of the porch leaning over the railing the cool metal on the skin of her forearms.

“This feels so normal.” She whispered her eyes darting around the street. People passed her some glancing up others too busy to notice her. The air was crisp, not cold but enough to make you more aware, wake you up. It did that for her brought the world into a sharp focus. 

Beside her, Daryl was leaning on the poll a cigarette between his lips. She took the moment of clarity to really look at him now. He was about a foot taller then she was small muscles frame, dirty light brown hair hanging in front of his eyes. The clear blue eyes that seemed imprinted in her memories, a light in her panic. 

Her gaze shifted again to the people the homes around her. The silence was comforting; He didn’t seem like a big talker which suited her just fine. This seemed like somewhere she would live or would have lived before the world went to shit. 

Turning she spotted a chair behind her big and plush. With a content sigh, she lowered herself into it. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, watching listening but after some time a heavy blanket was placed over her shoulders a mug of hot tea pressed into her hands. 

Turning Daryl was beside her holding a mug as well women beside him, older with short grey hair. Pandora flinched fingers gripping the mug tightly. She hadn't even noticed her come up to them, without meeting her eyes she turned her head to the side hiding the unease. 

“This is the first time she's been out of that damned room.” Daryl was saying around the cigarette in this mouth. A new one she noted she had been here for a while the sun was already setting in the sky. 

“It takes time you know the-”

“Ah know that,” he cut her off “Was just sayin' is all” 

The rest of the women's sentence hung unfinished in the air, the trauma. A shiver passed through her, she shut her eyes sipping the warm tea. When she put the mug down on the small table she found the women watching her openly. There was something in her gaze that was unnerving like she was trying to see inside her. 

Her eyes cool, critical, at odds with the floral printed sweater and slacks she was wearing. A wolf in sheep’s clothing something in her head whispered. Without a word Pandora stood and let herself back inside ignoring the questions from Daryl outside and Denise inside as she made her way back to her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So clearly I have had to tweak the events to make room for Pandora in the narrative. I will be trying to stick as close to canon as possible though.


	7. The Scale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if any of you are confused by the timeline of this story. But this is all happening in the time between the end of season 5 and the beginning of season 6. So for the sake of this story, the time between Reg dying and the walker parade is going to be a few weeks. All the other events in the show are as follows, like the conversation between Rick and Daryl about not looking for more people. Also, in the last chapter the scene where Denise is looking at Tara and the Wolves coming are obviously not the same day. I am re-watching season 6 to prep for writing Pandora into the story which is why this is a little messed up.

Denise found Pandora later sitting on top of the bed with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. She shut the door with her foot as she was carrying a steaming bowl on top of a tray. The smell set Pandora’s stomach rumbling, she couldn’t remember how long she had been sitting like this, not that that was anything new. 

“I thought you might be hungry.” Denise said as she placed the tray on the table beside Pandora’s bed. Before she had even stepped away, Pandora was setting the tray in her lap, the blanket slipping off her shoulders now forgotten as hot food awaited her. A few moments passed in silence while Denise leaned back in the chair folding her arms over her chest. “I want to work on something else but don’t worry you don’t have to stop eating.” She added quickly with her hands raised in defense.

Pandora gave her a sideways glance, the spoon in her mouth still showing she had no intention of stopping. 

“Daryl told me what happened when you two were talking.” Denise said. Pandora’s hands started to shake, causing the hot liquid to spill onto her skin. Pain flared for a moment, but surprisingly the usual noise in her head was quiet. 

“I want to teach you something else to help us understand how you feel. It’s a scale alright? All you have to do is hold up fingers, easy right?” asked Denise. 

Again, Pandora was caught slightly off guard with the spoon halfway to her open mouth, but she nodded before continuing.   
Denise smiled, nodding a few times, “Okay. One finger means you’re feeling good. Two fingers mean you’re feeling some worry, but it is still okay to go on. Three fingers mean you are willing to try, but we should be careful of what we do or say. Four fingers mean we need to change the topic or activity. Five fingers mean we need to stop right now because you think you might have a panic attack.”

Pandora mulled over the words in her head, deciding that what Denise was asking seemed easy enough. Placing the empty bowl back on the tray, she watched Denise with her hands folded in her lap. 

“What number are you on?” asked Denise. Pandora held up two fingers. The anxiety was there, it always was, but did not feel too bad right now.   
Denise moved on to the next question, “What happened outside?”

The image of the woman’s intense, prying gaze flashed through her mind. “Someone else was outside, talking to Daryl.” Her voice was low, monotone even in an attempt to keep control. “I don’t know her name, but she kept staring at me.” 

“Something about her made you uncomfortable?” Denise asked, pushing her glasses up on her face. Pandora nodded, it was the swirl of emotions in the other woman’s eyes. She couldn’t place it at the time, but it seemed like judgment. Judgment for not being strong enough, for being too broken or for needing care when there were other things that needed to be done. Maybe she had been right before to think about wasting a way in bed, what kind of world was this for someone like her, someone so broken.

She didn’t notice that Denise was leaning toward her now with her hand on top of Pandora’s, calling her name. The air seemed tight, like there wasn’t enough of it in the room to fill her lungs. Dimly hearing a question about a number she raised five fingers. 

“You’re alright, you’re in Alexandria in your room, and behind the walls you are safe.” Denise’s voice was strong and clear. She pressed something into Pandora’s hands, it was hard and cold, plastic maybe. “Tell me about what you’re holding.” Denise prompted. 

Pandora’s brain started and stopped, her fingers running over the object in her hands. “Four legs,” She whispered shakily. “Small tail but it has big ears.” 

“Keep your eyes shut, and keep telling me.” Denise prompted again. 

It seemed so stupid, but by the time she had figured out it was a plastic elephant, her breathing had come down to a normal rate. When she was asked what number she was on, she held up two fingers and it felt true. 

When she opened her eyes, Denise was smiling again, a big goofy looking grin. “You’re doing great.” She told her as she stood up. “Daryl is in the room to the left tonight ok? If you need anything he is right there.” 

Then Denise was gone, shutting the door behind her and Pandora was alone again, the plastic elephant still in her hands. Her mind was whirling and she was too antsy to sleep now. The window called to her with the promise of its cool night air against the fire her nerves were causing inside her. 

When she tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge. Figures, she thought, can’t have windows that open. The feeling of being trapped crept into her mind, panicking she tried to open the window again but of course nothing happened. Stumbling, she moved to the door, throwing it open. Just the air in the hallway calmed her down, but she needed more. 

She flew down the steps, throwing the front door open and gasping, only to be met with the piercing gaze of Daryl who was smoking another cigarette. A hysterical laugh bubbled up inside her escaping through half-open lips, but Daryl only raised an eyebrow at her. 

“May I?” She asked, pointing to the pack in the pocket of his vest, ignoring the question in his gaze. Sighing, he handed it over along with a box of matches. Grinning at him, she struck the match and lit the cigarette, immediately inhaling the smoke it created. Turning to look out at the street she realized how dark it was. It must have been late, not that she had any concept of time without clocks. 

“Can’t sleep?” He finally asked after a long silence. 

“No, and I wanted some air but the window wouldn’t open.” The tang of panic was still there, even under the taste of smoke. She didn’t need to explain that to him, part of her was sure he had guessed anyway. Suddenly the need to speak was overwhelming, words bubbled inside her screaming to be let out. 

“I had a place and group before,” she left unsaid what had happened to both. “Our place was nothing like this, it was a campsite all fenced in with a gate. We did what we could, built up the fences, and had people watching. We even had a garden, you know? Just a little bit of stuff.” 

She paused. Taking a long, deep drag to let the smoke fill her lungs and remind her of where she was. The words, her new mantra played on a loop in her brain, blocking out anything else. Flicking the ash off the end of the cigarette, she looked back at him standing with his arms over his chest.

“We ain't got no fences, they built a wall though.” His voice was hard, not in a cruel way, just to say that what he knew was fact. Fences stop the dead but not the living. Walls, they could keep the living out. They had climbed right over the fences, come in at night and—the thought slipped away when she felt his hand on her shoulder, the contact grounding her again.   
“S’alright?” He questioned eyes boring into her. Giving her shoulder a tight squeeze, he asked, “What number are you on?"

The world was focused again, everything becoming sharp and colored. She rolled her eyes slightly at him, but raised two fingers.   
“Doc knows her stuff huh?” He asked.

She nodded, flicking the cigarette onto the ground. She was about to stomp it out when she realized she wasn’t wearing any shoes.   
“Oh ya,” Daryl and opened the front door, producing a nice pair of steel-toe boots. “Got you these, some others brought them back from a run.” 

“Thank you.” She said as she slipped them on, there was a little bit of wiggle room in the front but other than that they were perfect. 

“Listen it’s late, but Doc says that if ya see the wall it might help with the yah know, saying calmly.” He said “staying calm” like it was a place she could visit, like she could go to this place called calm and stay there. 

Nevertheless, she nodded, hands balling into fists. Somewhere in her brain, a voice screamed that she was moving too fast. But the idea of seeing the wall was too good to pass up on. Without a verbal answer, she stepped off the porch and waited for him to join her. 

They walked in silence as she feared speaking would break the calm that seemed to have surrounded them. The feeling that she needed to share more of her story had passed, Daryl seemed to understand this as well as he didn’t ask any questions. 

She bumped right into Daryl’s back, she was so wrapped up in her own train of thought that she hadn’t noticed they reached the wall already. 

“Oh,” the sound was more like an exhale of air than an actual word. What stood firm and tall in front of her was like nothing she had seen before. Huge, metal sheets were placed more than eleven feet high, steel poles framing them. She stepped around Daryl and ran her hands over the ridges of the metal. How had they managed to do this with the threat of the dead looming over them she wondered? 

“How is this possible?” she breathed, glancing back at him over her shoulder. 

He shrugged, “Got it up in the beginning, there’s a quarry down the ways, drew all the walkers in. They ain’t had much trouble.” 

It took her a few moments but the end of his sentence finally clicked somewhere in her brain. “Wait. There is a quarry full of the dead?” 

He nodded, looking unsure. Pandora held up one finger to show that she was fine. At that, he snorted. 

Both of her hands were pressed against the wall now, running over the cool metal. Leaning forward, her head touched it and it made her feel better. Denise was right, the knowledge that this was here made her feel safe again, safer than she had in a long time. 

With her head still on the metal, the weariness seemed to be leaching into her bones now. It pulled her down like she was swimming in the ocean during low tide. “Can we go back now?” She asked. 

He nodded, holding his hand out for her to take. She did not even hesitate before she took it. Her feet felt heavy, like someone had replaced her blood with cement. She wasn’t sure she would have made it back if Daryl wasn’t pulling her gently by the hand, catching up to walk beside him she leaned her head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” She whispered sleepily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank yo so much for reading! I know this chapter is a little slow it gets better I promise! Also a huge thank you to my Beta reader the lovely Arrlow. Expect updates every Sunday at least for the next month I'm trying to write as much as a can white I have the inspiration.


	8. Trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Sunday readers! So tonight is the big night! I'm nervous and excited, I have been watching the marathon of AMC yesterday and today, it's getting me pumped. Anyway here is the new chapter! We are all caught up with the show now so let's get right to it!

It was all she could do to not stop running, stop even for a moment and they’d find you. Somewhere, a voice whispered that they would always find her. The darkness surrounded her, whispering the promises of the pain to come the moment she stopped moving. A scream tore its way from her throat but still she clawed at the hands holding her down. It was too late, the sharp taste of blood in her mouth and the feeling of fingers pulling at the helm of her clothing told her that they had her. 

She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, always fight because not fighting meant death and she was not ready to die. Somewhere from beyond the darkness, a voice called to her with whispers of safe places, walls of people taking care of her, but they couldn’t cut through the panic. The darkness floated around her, forming into hands, grabbing and pulling, and still she screamed. 

“Pandora!” someone was screaming her name she felt warm hands on her face and then suddenly, there was blue. Blue eyes, the smell of stale cigarettes and fresh motor oil and she knew she was awake, looking into the concerned face of Daryl. 

Part of her mind knew that she was safe with him, safe here, but another part of her mind was still somewhere else stumbling in the darkness. 

Light flickers on then and the furniture and walls of her room became illuminated with the burning glow of the bulb from the ceiling. Voices surround her asking questions, barking orders. She heard the sound of glass clinking, and the deafening sound of someone screaming. Where was the screaming coming from? She pressed her hands firmly on her ears to try and stop the sound, making her realize that the screaming was coming from her, a deep sound crawling its way up through her open mouth. 

“Look at me!” He said to her. She blinked, trying to focus, look at Daryl she told herself, shut your mouth and look at Daryl. The screaming stopped, only to be replaced with broken sobs. She tried to cover her mouth to stop them, but found his fingers locked tight around her wrists now. He was speaking to her again the words were lost, but the rumble in his chest provided peace from the sounds in her head. 

She leaned in pressing her trembling head to his chest, felt him stiffen momentarily and then arms were locked around her, rubbing slow calm circles on her back.   
“S'right” he kept telling her softly as he held her. 

When she was finally calm, the only thing she felt in the wake of her panic was shame. This is the third night in a row she had woken up screaming, woken up and needed him to hold her down and bring her back from nightmares. Denise kept telling her that talk therapy would help but more and more she was beginning to think that she was beyond that. She felt if she didn’t find a way to live with what happened it would eat her up. 

Before she realized it, she was waking up again as she had fallen asleep when Daryl was holding her. Sunlight was streaming from the window and Daryl’s deep breathing was coming from the newly added single bed across the room. Shame flared up again, almost causing the tears that were now pooling in her eyes to run down her cheeks. She shifted one arm to cover her face, she heard him shift as well and peeking from under her arm she realized he was watching her.  
She watched him lean back to stretch and run a hand over his eyes to clear away the sleep. Something crossed his face and he opened his mouth slightly as if to speak. She was already slipping out of the bed, opening the bathroom door and letting it close with a click behind her. For a long while she didn’t move, she just stood there pressing herself against the door to listen to the sound of him get up and leave. Only when she was sure that he had gone back to his own room did she turn on the water and step in. 

A sigh escaped her lips as the warm water ran over her body. It had been a long week of answering direct questions about the Wolves, an interview with Deanna, therapy, and meeting Rick and answering his questions. It had all sent her spiralling back down, blowing her coping skills out of the water. 

When she was washed and dressed she headed right for the kitchen. The hospital kitchen was usually pretty empty as Denise was still living in her own apartment thus not really stocking food here. Daryl had become her makeshift nurse, making sure she was always fed and watered.   
With a sigh, she followed the smell of smoke. Outside, she found Daryl on the porch smoking another cigarette, two protein bars and a bottle of water sitting on the table beside him. The moment she closed the door behind her, she was already opening her mouth to apologize but he was handing her a protein bar instead. 

“Doc says no therapy today.” The relief in her face made him smile slightly. “Ahm take you out. We are going to the quarry today to go over the plan. Everyone will be there, it’s safe.” 

Chewing slowly, she watched him as she mulled over his words. The idea of leaving the safety behind these walls was both thrilling and terrifying. She knew that with him was the safest she felt in a long time, if he was going outside the walls so was she. 

“Ok,” Nodding, she finished the rest of the bar slightly dissatisfied as the slight rumble in her stomach was still there. Then, Daryl was nudging another one into her hand. They had developed a non-verbal form of communication. She was not sure when or how it even worked, but they always seemed to be one step ahead of each other. Or he was one step ahead of her at least, always knowing what she wanted or needed before she said anything. 

“I gotta go talk to Rick, we leave in an hour.” Daryl had been getting better with leaving her alone now, letting her wander inside the walls herself. She had taken to staying with Abraham while he was on watch. 

He was good for both conversation but also provided company for when she just wanted silence. Watching Daryl go, she turned and headed to the tower she knew Abraham would be keeping guard in. Climbing the ladder, she found him sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall.   
“Hey, rough night?” He asked. His house was located pretty close to the hospital so recently he had been coming to check in on her. He even spent the night sometimes to give Daryl a break. Pandora guessed he had either heard her, or someone had called him to come over. 

She only nodded, crossing her arms and leaning over the edge of the wall. The air was warm, summer still maybe but it was hard to tell. She had stopped keeping track of the days a long time ago and was too frightened to ask if anyone else still knew. The idea of knowing how much time she had lived in this new world was not something she was interested in right now. 

“Are you going to the quarry today?” She tried to keep her tone light, causal even. Not that it mattered as Abraham always seemed to have a nose for her bullshit. 

“Ya, who’s asking?” His tone was hard, face set in harsh lines under the bushy red beard. 

“Daryl is taking me with him.” She whispered, turning her back to him. The tone of his voice was grating her nerves, making her think that maybe he was right and she shouldn’t be going out. Hands tightened into fists over the railing to stop the shaking. 

“The hell he is.” Abraham spat, getting to his feet. Leaning over the railing he held his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun to search the street below them. “Hey Holly!” 

Everything seemed too loud and bright again; she turned, not wanting to deal with this right now and made her way back to the ladder. 

“Don’t you move!” He snapped, pointing a finger right at her but still keeping his eyes on Holly. “Can you start a bit early? Got something to take care of”

She heard the other women respond with an affirmative from her spot on the ground. A slight tremble had taken up residence in her bones. Blinking, she found Abraham in front of her.   
“Let’s go.” He snapped, starting down the ladder knowing that she would follow. When they reached the ground, Holly climbed up after them, nodding hello to them both. When Holly was out of sight, he tried to reach for her arm, but seeing her flinch he stepped back shaking his head and headed walking towards Rick’s place. 

Pandora followed a few steps behind him, her frame shook harder with every step. Abraham meant well that was clear, but he also had a habit of setting off her many triggers without really noticing. It wasn’t until this moment that she realized she actually did want to see what was outside the walls. Now that Abraham was going to argue with Daryl she was worried he would change his mind. 

When he reached Rick’s house, he didn’t knock she noted but only turned the handle and stepped in. She stepped in behind him, hands flying out to grip his shirt when she realized the room was full of people.   
A sharp intake of breath made Daryl glance around Abraham to look at her. He wore his trademark scowl; she wanted to shrink back into herself. There were hands on her suddenly, looking to her right she found Rosita. Who was already pulling her into the corner of the room, away from the prying eyes. 

Rick turned at the interruption, when his gaze locked on her, something she couldn’t place flickered in his eyes. Colour rose up into her cheeks; she knew he wasn’t her biggest fan. To him, she was just as bad as the people who were living here, people who shouldn’t be alive now. 

“Um everyone be ready to meet back here in an hour.” He finally said after the stretching silence. When the room was clear, he crossed his arms over his chest and cast a glance at her before moving to Abraham. 

“You are not taking her out there.” Abraham thundered. “I don’t give a goat’s nut how safe you think it is.” 

Rick sighed, Daryl kept his eyes on Pandora while speaking. 

“Ahm take her, I can keep her safe. We ain’t doing nothing just looking.” 

She must have started shaking again because Rosita held her tighter leaning to ask her what number she was on in a soft whisper. Slowly she raised four shaking fingers. Not speaking, the other woman took her by the shoulders and led her out to the back of the house. Once outside, Pandora lowered herself onto the wooden steps of the deck, Rosita sat beside her. 

“Just breathe like me ok?” Rosita said as she squatted in front of Pandora so she could see the rise and fall of her chest. Bits of the voices from inside the house flowed towards her, but she was too far to make out the words. 

Rosita chatting beside her as she waited, her voice was calming even if Pandora didn’t catch all of the words she said. After some time, a heavy hand touched her shoulder. She looked up, meeting Daryl’s eyes, he held out a hand to help her up. 

“How was she?” She heard him ask Rosita. 

“A little shaken up at first, but she calmed down. Just been sitting here listening to me the talk the whole time.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem” 

Pandora hadn’t noticed they had left until she was already stepping in to the front door of his house, the one he shared with Rick and the others. Leaning into her field of vision he touched her arms lightly, causing her to focus more. 

“Ya can say no, you don’t have to come.” 

She was shaking her head no. “I’d like to see out there.” She whispered.

Nodding, he left the room and came back with a black backpack. Moving behind her, he slipped it over her shoulders. She didn’t have to ask what was in it, she was guessing food, water and medical supplies as you could never really be ready for leaving the walls. 

“Come on.” He said finally, grabbing his own gear and heading for the door. Watching his back for a moment, she followed him and shut the door behind her when she stepped outside. 

He was in the driveway already, clipping his bag to the bike. They had been practicing her riding on the back of his bike but he had only taken her around the outside of the wall, never further than that.

Without a word, she started walking to the front gate as the group was already making their way towards there. Within a moment Daryl was beside her walking his bike. 

Rick was talking to the group again, seeing who would ride with whom. When everyone was in cars and ready, Daryl slipped onto the bike. Pandora came up behind him and slid into the seat, arms tightening around his waist. 

Before she knew it, they were speeding down the street, weaving around the cars until they were in the front. She didn’t even have time to think about how she was outside the walls right now. The only thing she could do was hold on; her arms were tightening around the hard muscle of his torso. She pressed her head to his back, one ear flat against him. Despite the wind whipping around her arms, she felt a smile tugging on her lips. 

The bike always made her feel grounded. The movement and the sound were so clear that they cut through any panic or flashbacks she may have. The movement also lulled her into a calm state; she watched the world flash by around her. 

They moved through the route they would be taking, stopping and getting out at every important point. She paid little attention to the path or the instructions. The amount of time Rick said Daryl’s name made her uneasy. He was going to be on that bike alone leading all of those walkers. 

It wasn’t until they reached the quarry that she slipped back into the real world. Daryl’s presence was solid beside her, but it didn’t stop the shaking as she heard the noise. All of them together like that created a dull roar in her ears, deafening almost. Rick was standing on the truck bed now, addressing everyone. Abraham stood beside them casting looks down at her then sweeping the area around them. 

Even with their firm presence beside her, she found her eyes wandering. Down the quarry was the source of the sound as hundreds of walkers were moving around down there. The sound of them drowned out Rick’s voice, making her unable to follow along. All of those bodies moving around down there, the sound grew as more came, and more of them made more noise. 

Her feet carried her forward, closer to the edge. She wasn’t sure what she was looking at but one rock fell away, then two, then three, then too many for her to count. It wasn’t until she felt Daryl stiffen beside her, felt everyone looking in the same direction that she was did she notice that something was wrong. Helplessly, she watched the side of the quarry crumble, watched the truck fall over the edge and the surge of the dead moving. 

Panic coated her throat making it hard to breathe. Daryl’s hand was holding her then. Rick was screaming that we were doing this now, and everyone jumped into action. Rick was shouting orders, Abraham shouting back. 

He was looking at Daryl then, putting a hand out to touch his shoulder. “Lemme take her in the car.” 

Panic was racing through her now, she tugged Daryl’s hand desperately, they needed to move, everyone else was moving, why were they still here? 

“Naw I got her, go!” Daryl responded. Abraham was gone then, there wasn’t time to argue now. Before she knew it there was the sound of their old car peeling away, Abraham and Sasha were gone. 

Daryl had let go of her hand then to hold her chin, turning it face to him. “Stay right here, right beside me until I say so you understand?” 

She nodded, hands tightening into fists at her sides. She stepped behind him, shielded from the view of the walkers where he pointed his crossbow. 

“Now!” She heard Rick yell, her eyes were drawn to the sky as flares lit up around them. The herd of walkers turned toward the lights and noise, pushing their way toward her and Daryl. What the hell were they doing? Her mind was screaming. She wanted to run now, but her feet stayed glued to the ground. 

Horror rose up inside her as she watched one of the trucks in front of them move to allow the dead to come even closer. 

Over his shoulder, Daryl shouted for her to get on the bike. At first she didn’t move, fear stopping her muscles in place. It wasn’t until she heard the bolt come loose from the crossbow did she go running for his bike. Panic clawed at her throat, setting her insides on fire and the edges of her vision darkened. Her truths didn’t work to calm her since one of them was no longer true. She was not safe in Alexandria anymore. 

Daryl was in front of her then, “Hold on!” He shouted over the roar of the dead, screams and sounds of trucks. Under her, she felt him revving the engine and it helped to remind her where she was. They were gone then, her arms wrapped tight around him with a herd of walkers on the move behind them.


	9. Moving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday again! Hope everyone is enjoying their weekend! I'm sick so I have been sitting and writing for most of the day. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, this was going to get very interesting for our poor Pandora.  
> Anyway thanks for reading, and a huge thank you to my wonderful beta reader!

Moving 

It didn’t take long for the panic to become a dull roar in her brain. The moving was slow, with enough space between them and the dead that she could calm down just a little bit. Just enough so that the black spots no longer crowded her vision, so that her arms were not a vice grip around Daryl.

“Pandora!” He shouted over the din of the bike and the dead. “We are gonna lead them down the hill, then Sacha and Abraham will be right there ok?” 

She nodded; she felt his heart beating quickly as she pressed her head tighter against him. He was frightened she thought, it wasn’t just her this time. This whole situation was beyond terrifying and he felt it too, his heartbeat couldn’t lie. She was sure though if she could see his face it would be blank, a schooled expression to hide his fear. That was the difference she thought, she couldn’t push her emotions down like he could. She was floating helplessly on top of the sea of her emotions whereas he commanded his. 

“S’alright?” Daryl asked her.

“I’m fine.” She responded, though she obviously wasn’t.

Her head rested against the back of his shoulders as she wasn’t calm enough to lean back, not yet. 

“We’re at red balloon at the bottom of the hill.” She was close enough to hear Sasha’s voice through the walkie clipped to Daryl’s jacket. 

“Alright here comes the parade.” He answered, his voice a calm mask giving no sign of the rapid beat of his heart. 

Raising her head up, she tried to look over his shoulder but he was taller than she was so she could only lean out and look around him. She could see the old beat up car parked down by the red balloons. They had made it, which was good. Loosening her grip on Daryl, she turned her head back slightly to glance behind her. 

The sight of them made her breath catch, she had never seen so many before and they were all following behind them. One with enough speed could pull her right from the bike; it would be over fast then.

“Hey! Ah-“ 

“I’m ok,” She cut him off turning back towards him lifting her head off his shoulder a little bit. She leaned back creating some distance between their bodies, in an effort to prove her words. How could he believe she was ok if she was clinging to him like he was her lifeline? 

“Don’t do that!” His voice was sharp, the first hint she heard of the panic she felt in his heartbeat. “Ya keep holding on tight.” 

“Ok.” Her voice was smaller now right under his ear, her arms tightened around him again, her chest pressing against his firm back. They rode in silence then, not much to talk about. When Sasha and Abraham’s car turned out in front of them, she could see Abraham turning to try and look at them. 

Pandora didn’t look in front or behind her again, when she felt Daryl slow her eyes squeezed shut tightly. 

“Imma slow down to make the turn, you’re alright ok?” she only nodded, the shaking starting up again. Once she felt the bike turn fully, he was moving fast again to put more distance between them and the dead. 

When they got back, she was never going to leave from behind the walls again she decided. What were the odds that this would be the day it gave in? They had been planning for at least two weeks now, and the one day she comes out it all goes to hell. The universe was cruel she decided, it cared nothing for her mental well-being. 

The ride was quiet, if it wasn’t for the walkers behind them it would be like any other ride they had taken together. It wasn’t though seeing as a parade of the dead followed them down the road. After a while, she leaned back again putting only inches between their bodies. 

“I’m ok Daryl.” She leaned close and half whispered it knowing he would hear it despite the noise.  
He gave a quick look back at her his features becoming soft for a moment, but she could see her fear reflected in his eyes. So much so she needed to turn away, unable to bear seeing that. 

“Ah’m sorry,” He said slowly. “Ah shouldn’t have brought you, it’s never safe.” 

Giving him a tight squeeze she pressed her head to his shoulder again, “I’m ok Daryl this isn’t your fault.” I’m ok had become her new mantra, she figured if she said it enough it might become true. It was slightly shocking how composed she appeared, something about life and death forced her to focus. 

Silence stretched between them then, the only sounds came from under the bike and the dead behind them. It wasn’t until the sound of a horn came blaring from the distance did she raise her head up. She was about to ask what was happening, but Daryl was already on the walkie so she waited. 

“Rick?” 

“I’m here”

“What’s going on back there?”

“Half of them broke off they’re going towards Alexandria.” 

There was rush to his voice, running he must be running. Her hands tightened around Daryl’s frame, a slight tremble in her arms. She could taste fear now in the back of her throat. They had lost some of them, half were heading back home. Would they have anything to return to if they survived this?

“Towards you?” Abraham’s voice was sharp. 

“We ran ahead, there is a horn or something coming from the east it’s not stopping.” 

There was a pause; she could feel Daryl stiffen under her. “I’m gonna gas it up and come back” 

“No, you keep going” 

“They gonna need our help”

“Gotta keep the herd moving” 

“Not if shits going down we don’t.”

“The risk that herd turns around the bad back there gets worse.” Rick was right, she knew that, but Daryl didn’t seem to understand that. 

He is pausing, another glance back at her muttering a curse under his breath. 

“Daryl?” 

“Ya I heard yah.” She picked up on the sharpness in his tone when he spoke. 

Pandora waited a moment, letting him calm back down before she spoke. 

“This is how we keep them safe; this is how we save our home.” She told him, there was hardness in her voice that she had never heard before. She didn’t feel it as inside she was terrified that they were riding towards her doom. All she needed to do was convince him, convince him she was ok and they could keep going. She knew the concern was for the family he had back home, but also for her the unknown variable no one had factored into this plan. 

He didn’t believe her though because the next moment they were riding beside Sasha and Abraham.

“Hey” She winced, watching them roll down the window. “We gone five miles out yet?”

Abraham eyed them through the open window of the passenger side. “Give or take some yardage you got a reason for asking?” 

“Next intersection I’m gonna turn around and go back.” Daryl’s voice was loud, carrying over the din of the noise around them. Pandora tightened her arms around him to get his attention. 

“What are you doing?!” She hissed at him panicked again. He ignored her struggling so she tried to follow along with the conversation. 

“Plan is to go 15 more.”

“Ya I’m gonna change that five is gonna have to work.” 

“The magic number is twenty, that’s the mission, that’s making sure they are off munching on racoons the rest of their un-dead lives instead of us.” She felt Abraham’s eyes on her then so she turned her head away to avoid his gaze. If he saw her like this she was almost sure he would get out of the car and drag her inside with him. 

“You wanna go we can’t stop you, but without you, they could stop us.” Sasha, always the voice of reason, but she was on the verge of pleading now. 

“Naw I got faith in yah.” Then he was turning, speeding forward quickly causing her to slip backwards. 

The panic that she had felt before washed away, replaced with white hot anger. He hadn’t even taken her into account. She was here now and did not want to leave. She was part of this and wanted, needed, to see it through. When they were far enough away from the herd she let her arms slip from around his waist. 

He snapped his head back to look at her. “Stop the bike Daryl.” Her words had a bite to them that he must have heard because he stopped, his expression guarded. 

She was off the bike before he even had the kickstand down. “You didn’t even ask me!” She hissed pacing. “You don’t think I know what the rest of your group thinks of me! Useless, damaged, what is this going to make them think?” She was seething now, anger burning like fire in her veins, breathing ragged. 

“They will think it was me that made you turn back, you just left them! Sasha and Abraham needed you.” Didn’t he see what he was doing here? They would never believe him if he said he chose to come back. The blame would fall on her, she would be the one who put their lives in danger. 

She didn’t notice the tears until he was standing in front of her, thumbs wiping away the wet tracks on her cheeks.

“Ah have to you have to know that, and Ah can’t leave you with them, do you understand?” She held up her hand to silence him, stepping away.

“Take me back Daryl, I’ll ride with Abraham.” 

“Ah can’t do that. They need us back home.”

Despite the rage in her voice a moment ago she felt it all drain from her then. She found herself sitting back on the bike, eyes titled upwards. Daryl stood unmoving, arms crossed over his chest. She couldn’t decipher the emotions she watched playing over his face. Turning away, she wiped her eyes. 

“Let’s go Daryl, home, I don’t care.” Turning to the side, eyes still turned upwards. She watched him half turn away when the walkie went off. 

“Daryl?” Her heart thudded in her chest as she waited, Rick’s voice was over the line again. 

“I’m here.” 

“Won’t be long now they are almost here, get them going your way again.” 

“Hear that Daryl they will be coming our way.” Sasha’s voice? She struggled to hear it, he was moving further away from her. 

“Gun fire coming from back home we gotta sit with it and hope they can handle it. I think they can. We keep going forward for them we can’t turn back because we are afraid” 

“We ain’t afraid.” Abraham’s voice now. 

“This is for them going back now before it’s done that would be for us. The herd has to be almost here.” 

She let Rick’s words wash over her, he is right; going back now is for them. They have to stay and do this for everyone else they left behind. Part of her brain whirled in panic, but somehow the panic was smaller now. Maybe she was too tired, maybe somewhere her brain knew that now was not the time. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t notice them pulling back alongside Abraham. With her head resting on his shoulder again she smiled softly. 

“Ahm sorry” He said turning slightly over his shoulder. 

“I know Daryl.”


	10. I see fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So today when coming to post this chapter I realized I never posted last weekend. I had the draft up but did not post, not sure how that happened really. So here is another chapter yay! happy happy! Please let me know what you think so far! As always thank you to my amazing beta reader Arrlow!

They spent the rest of the way in silence, occasionally he looked back to ask if she’ was doing ok. The answer is always yes; maybe if they were somewhere else the answer would be different. Right now, being ok was the only option. 

Around them the landscape began to change, the homes they passed before were fewer and fewer. On either side, they were blanketed by thick trees. There were hardly any signs that anyone had been here in a long time, no cars left, no bodies, nothing. She wondered if there had ever even been people here, it didn’t seem like it. There were also no walkers she noted, besides the ones they were leading behind them, she didn’t see anything else. 

“Alright.” Sasha’s voice came from the walkie. 

“That’s 20?” He asked, relief washed through her. 

“It will be, 642 is a mile ahead gotta put some distance between us and them before the turn-off.” 

“Alright try to keep up.”

Pandora, who had been sitting up with her hands holding his jacket leaned forward again before she was told. When her frame was pressed against him tightly she felt the bike jerk forward.  
Whatever Sasha says next is lost to her, the wind whipping in her ears making her voice too muffled to understand. 

The landscape changed again after the turn; looking to the side she sees them entering a small town. Old abandon cars lined the streets around them; here she would see the evidence of people. She had been so distracted by trying to look around she didn’t hear everything fall apart. It wasn’t the whizzing sound that made her jump, or even the blooming warmth she felt now on her right arm. It was the sound of shattering glass from the car that was so clear even with the moaning of the dead behind them. 

Before she knew it, they are speeding up again, weaving side to side to avoid the bullets. She wanted to scream, but instead hunched down making herself smaller. Daryl was screaming at her over the noise to stay low. The next turn he took was too sharp though and her body doesn’t move in time, they were both sliding to the floor then, the bike having slipped out from under them.  
Pandora’s arm rubs painfully on the side of the road; the pain makes her mind sharper something clicking into place in her head. Daryl hisses her name; she’s turning then and he is in front of her getting the bike back up. She is sliding into her seat with record speed and again they are speeding off.

The bullets don’t stop though; she can feel the displaced air to the right of her, too close for comfort. Hanging on tightly, she bites her lip so hard that her mouth is filled with the coppery taste of her own blood. She can’t see anything as her eyes are shut tightly; she doesn’t know where they are headed, just that they are going. 

When Daryl turns she can hear the dead come lurching towards them, she opened her eyes then, too frightened to keep them shut. It’s only when she feels their fingers brush the side of her clothes does she scream. A voice in her head screams at her, head down, arms in tight, don’t let go. 

One car crashes behind them, she turns to look, steeling herself. “We still have one behind us!” Her voice is high and tight with panic. She was losing it, her mind tried to count the time between her breaths in order to stave off the panic. 

“Hold on!” He’s shouting it now too as he moves the bike from side to side avoiding the flying bullets and hands of the dead. He gives the bike more gas, peeling off down the road in front of them. Once over a hill, he turns to the side with his fingers on his lips, slowly he pulls off into the woods. 

Nodding, she keeps her body as still as she can. As quietly as she can she peers to the side, watching the car slowly drive past them. 

“Ya alright?” He questions, throwing another look her way. Not trusting the sound of her own voice she only nods hoping he can see it. Once he thinks enough time has passed he starts the bike again, crossing the road and driving into the woods. The path they take is surrounded by burnt blackened trees and the ground is nothing but ash.

When he finally brings the bike to a stop, she feels her muscles give way, and before she knows it she finds herself looking up at the sky. Daryl’s face comes into her field of vision, concern mixed with weariness. 

“Ya hurt?” His hands are pulling her to sit up gently. She follows his lead, pulling her body into a sitting position. “Pandora?” He prompts.

He is asking her a question she doesn’t know the answer to; every nerve in her body is on fire. Shutting her eyes, she tries to think passed it and find the places she is hurt, but she can’t, everything is too loud. 

“I don’t know.” Her voice is calmer than she feels, maybe she should be worried. Fingers clench and unclench; she feels a stinging in her right arm. “Here, maybe?” She holds her right arm towards him. Gently he peels off her jacket revealing a wound from a bullet that just missed her. 

“Shit! Fuck.” He was trying to pull the bag off her back now to get the supplies. 

“Daryl stop!” She whispered hoarsely, pushing his hands away. “I won’t die, we don’t have time for this, come on.” 

Sitting there for another moment he sighed, running his hands over his face. Beside him, a burnt up walker gave a dull groan. Slowly, he stood then still breathing heavily. She followed him, pulling herself into a standing position. Her legs shook slightly, but she forced herself to move toward Daryl and the bike. Picking up the bike, the two of them started walking beside it. 

Pandora glanced around as they moved; the bodies of burnt walkers littered the ground around them. Most of the trees had been burnt black, there was no grass just ground under them that was coated in ash. 

“What the hell happened here?” She wondered out loud. Daryl only shrugged. 

They walked a while longer until her muscles screamed in protest; she slowed then, her grip on the bike slackening. Her mind wandered drifting in and out; it was almost as if she was watching herself from outside her body. She tried to keep focused by thinking about the pain in her arm, instead of all the noise in her head. Before Daryl noticed, her knees were giving way and she was on the ground with the bike on top of her. 

She felt him pull it off and pull her to the side. Above her, the sky was still bright, light filtering in through the burnt branches. I’m lying on the floor she thought, that couldn’t be good. His hands were on her face then forcing her to look at him. “Pandora you stay with me!” His voice was harsh but she could feel the desperation lingering just under his tone. 

Large, vacant eyes looked up at him holding his gaze for a few moments until she finally spoke, “I just need a minute.” What had Denise called this, disassociation? Was that a bad thing? She couldn’t remember now. Right now it seemed like a good thing, it seemed like disassociation was keeping her from losing her shit. 

He nodded; he leaned over her slightly as he stood up. He tried to call for Sasha and Abraham over the walkie. Pandora felt something warm on her face reaching up she wiped it away only to find her hand comes away with blood. 

“Daryl, you’re bleeding.” She noted calmly, turning her head to look at him as another drop of blood hit her cheek. 

He looked down at his hand, blood dropped from the inside of his sleeve. Somehow that sent her spinning back down to earth, like someone had picked her up and placed her back in her body. She was standing in front of him before she even realized she had moved, her fingers pulled off the bloody glove and tossed it aside. 

“Take off the jacket and let me see.” He did as she asked him, wincing when he slipped it off. Deep cuts littered the outside of his arm, from the fall she guessed. “Here, let me clean it.” She was already getting is backpack off the bike, turning she found him standing right in front of her. 

His arm snaked around her waist pulling her closely with his finger over his lips. She held her breath waiting to hear whatever he heard. She didn’t hear anything, but it didn’t matter because he was moving. Before she blinked he was holding his crossbow and the bike was covered. 

She walked behind him with her knife held tightly in her hand, all forms of panic gone. This was life or death; she would fight with everything she had or she would die. She followed behind him straining to hear what he had heard. 

Suddenly in front of them, there were two women, their hands up in surrender. They were speaking and she leaned forward to hear it but Daryl stepped closer, putting a few feet between them. Before she could try and make out their words her world was spinning. 

She heard the crack of the object against her skull after she was already tumbling into the darkness. There wasn’t even any pain when she slipped away. Maybe this is dying. She thought, no wonder people just gave up. If this was dying it was too easy. 

The feeling of someone kicking her in the side jolted her out of the darkness. She moved to hide her eyes from the sun only to realize her hands were bound. Panic flared up and she twisted, rubbing the rope against her skin hunching forward. Not tied up, not without the use of her hands. She swore this would never be where she found herself, not again. 

“Cut it out!” a voice sneered, kicking her again. This time the foot made contact with the bullet wound in her arm, causing her to scream as pain flared up. “Shut up!” There was a man in front of her now, she tried to look at him but pain blurred her vision. Breath hitched in her lungs, she hunched over gasping and gulping in air.

Daryl lunged forward hearing her scream. The man cocked the gun that was in her face, the world narrowed to only the barrel of it. Everything else seemed to fall away; the world was sharp and focused again. 

“Get up both of you, we’re moving.” The gun was trained on her but he spoke to Daryl. “Here’s the deal, neither of you says shit and I won’t kill you.”

Her breath was ragged, fire burning in her lungs. She twisted her hands again, skin cutting open. Blood ran over her wrists, wet and warm. Her body turned to the side, legs crossing to hide herself from them. Her hair tumbled over her face, strands sticking to the wet trails on her cheeks. 

“We’re not who you think.” Daryl’s voice was low, controlled, but she knew him enough to hear the rage behind it. 

The gun was on him then, “Say something else, go ahead.” 

Watching the gun pointed in Daryl’s face, her fear was replaced by a cold rage. I will kill them; the idea was so final in her head that she should have been frightened. She wasn’t though, just comforted in the finality of the decision she had made. She would live through this and then kill them. 

The man was pulling her up now, pulling on the rope that bound her hands and shouting at them to follow behind the women. Pain ripped through her arm as she felt fresh blood well up in her sleeve soaking her. The world around her seemed to be moving slowly again, her eyes swept the area as they walked. Daryl was beside her then walking so his arm pressed against hers. She wasn’t sure how long they walked but she was sure it had been a while; her body was beginning to feel it now. Feet and back screaming she needed to stop, but she couldn’t since to stop was to die. A few times she was sure Daryl tried to get her attention, but everything was too much. 

It was hard to focus. She was sure they were speaking to each other, to them too maybe? Daryl made no move to answer. She walked along, following the women’s backs, her mind drifting. She was sure they were speaking, but listening to their conversation would require more energy than she had right now. 

Suddenly the gun was in Daryl’s face again, fear sliced through her like a knife. She tried to step between them, opening her mouth to say something, but her foot caught a root and she was sent tumbling forward. Without her hands to break the fall, her head connected painfully with the ground, white flashes of light in her vision. 

There was more shouting then, the man threatening to shoot Daryl, but she couldn’t get up. Something grabbed the back of her sweater pulling her up; she tumbled forward into Daryl’s chest, the world tilting and shifting. She could hear the curses he whispered, and then he was calling her name. His words were too far away in her mind though despite their closeness. Glancing up, she met his gaze with wide unfocused eyes. 

They were moving again now, shoving her and Daryl in front. She moved slower, almost stumbling again when they reached the end of the dense woods. In front of them stood a fenced in a factory of some kind, the dead wandering inside the fences. The few fleeting moments when their captors had their backs turned were bliss to her, she tried to breathe deeply. The pain in her head and arm roped her back down to earth, the pain was an anchor to the world. 

A glance at Daryl and she knew what was next, they were going to run the moment they could. He gave her a small nod and she tried to nod back, not sure if it actually looked like one. Everything was still a little blurred. Then she heard their captors say something, the distress in their faces was clear. Something had happened, but she wasn’t able to make out what. 

She was being pushed then blinking, Daryl came into focus in front of her mouthing run, and when she didn’t move he shoved her again. Finally, her body sprang into action, the blond woman was on the floor and she was running. 

Twigs and branches whipped at her arms and face, but she didn’t stop. Faintly, the sound of the gunfire caused her to slow, but Daryl was right behind her telling her to keep moving. How long they ran she wasn’t sure, the intention was to keep running. The universe had other plans. 

Her foot caught on a root again, this time she tucked and rolled. Muscle memory kicked in and Pandora found herself standing upright, stopping just short of a tree. If she hadn’t been on the verge of having a panic attack she would be more impressed. She couldn’t remember the last time she even practiced any of her moves. 

She tried to wipe the hair from her face, only to raise her bound hands to eye level. “Daryl.” Voice high, she presented her bound wrists. Blood coated the rope from when she tried to get them off.  
He sat her down on a log behind them, working the knot until the rope fell away. Something between a gasp and sob escaped her when the air hit the skin that had been rubbed raw. He watched her, hands on her arms squeezing lightly. Then he was gone, ripping the bag open to try the walkie. 

Sitting, she tried to slow her breathing. It was fine now, she tried to tell herself. Her hands were free and no one was waving a gun in her face, they would get home. The groaning of one of the dead reached her after it reached him, when she turned her head Daryl was struggling to get the crossbow out of the bag. 

Before she knew it she was on her feet, a knife in her hand, and then it was the head of the walker. Her arm ached, unable to pull the knife from his skull, blade wedged too deep. Both bodies dropped at the same time, she lay panting on her back eyes fixed on the sky above them. Hysterical laughter bubbled up from inside her filling the space around them. Daryl was pulling her up then forcing her to sit up, pressing water into her hands. The dead one lay beside her, the blade gone from its head. 

The laughter had stopped when she pressed the bottle to her lips, she passed the bottle back to him to finish. Fingers tugged at her hair hanging around her face, she moved to take the rest of her weapons from the bag. The bag came open and a white cooler sitting upright was exposed, the words insulin written on the top. 

“Oh for fuck's sake.” Her foot connected with the cooler knocking it over, but not before Daryl read the words on the front.


	11. Cracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Hi! I know I didn't post last weekend and I am very sorry I missed you guys. I had to get a new computer mine finally died. Thank god I have all these chapters saved on my one drive! I do that because I legit write everywhere, on the bus, at work, sometimes in the store.   
> Anyway here is a new chapter! yay! Let me know what you think! Also, I am currently stuck on chapter 16, so give me some love and maybe my muse will come back!  
> Happy Sunday!

Without a word to Daryl, Pandora moved to zip the bag up. It took a few tries to get it closed as her hands were shaking violently. It didn’t matter what she saw in that bag, it didn’t matter. It was theirs now, finder’s keepers. The school-ground logic was the only thing that seemed to make sense her. 

“Let’s go. Which way do you think the bike is?” Her tone was hard and her back was turned to him. In her head, she kept a running count of the time between breaths. In: 1,2,3,4 out: 1,2,3,4. All she had to do was keep moving and keep breathing, easy right? She didn’t get far before he was tugging the strap of the duffle to stop her. 

“Pandora we-” 

Snarling, she spun around, her hand shooting out to stop him. “No Daryl!” Her voice teetered on the edge of hysteria, eyes brimming with tears. “I want to go home.” 

“That girl could die without those meds.” 

“Then she dies.” She was nearly shouting now, the calm she had tried to hold on to was cracking slowly. “They knocked us over the head, tied us up and threatened to kill us. They are not good people.” Tears streaked down her face now, her anxiety and fear building. Hands tightened around the strap of the bag over her shoulder.

Home was beginning to feel like a distant memory. Her wandering blindly into the woods felt too much like before ,before the wolves came. He didn’t know, how could he even understand what she was trying to outrun. How could he know what haunted her in the night, he saw her wake up screaming but he had no idea. 

Daryl was standing in front of her now, pulling her his solid, warm frame. “Ah’m gonna get us both home Ah swear it.” 

She wanted to believe him, god she wanted to. He had never let her down before but this, this was different. The lack of choice made her skin crawl. What else was she going to do if he went back; she would go with him because she couldn’t be alone might as well lay down and die. 

“We go back, trade the bag for whatever else they got and we go.” 

A few moments of him holding her solid and present was enough to calm the storm inside her mind even if only for a moment. The thought of her hands tied up still plagued her mind. The idea of being helpless again made her want to put a bullet in their brains. He stepped back then and turned his eyes down, stuffing his hands in his back pockets.

“Ya stay back ok? Ah’m gonna do this and you stay behind me.” 

They walked along slowly, more for her. Every step her body screamed in protest, a catalog of injuries was something she would need to do whenever shit stopped hitting the fan. No matter how slow she moved or how often she stopped, Daryl never allowed himself to get too far ahead of her, always looking back and checking that she was still there. 

The more they walked, the more the pounding in her head increased. Just let me live to see the walls again. She had never had somewhere to go back to before. Now the promise of being back in Alexandria was like a siren’s song calling to her. 

Something caught Daryl’s attention. Stopping, he put his finger to his lips. She stopped as well, her knife held tight in her hand. Peaking around his should she saw them sitting on a burnt fallen log, the blonde girl was leaning on the dark haired one. The sight of the girl pale and shaking didn’t bring any feelings forward from her. 

“Drop the gun! Drop it!” Daryl’s was positioned high resting on his shoulder, aimed at the blond man's head. She tried to filter through the bits of conversation in her head, he had a name she knew that. Dwane? No Daniel? No Dwight she was sure he name was Dwight. 

The gun in Dwight’s hand lowered, on impulse, she stepped forward. “Give it to me.” Daryl stiffened beside her, but she took the gun checking to see if it was loaded then pointed it at his head.   
“What you for got for the duffle? You put us through too much shit just to give it back. Principle of the thing.” Daryl’s words were clipped tone rushed, he hoisted the bag onto his shoulder. Anxiety rode off in his waves, it made her feel uneasy. 

Despite his question, the group in front of them remained silent, rage sparked inside her. “What else do you have besides this fucking gun!” She snapped. 

“Nothing” The women finally answered, her arms around the younger girl tightening. 

“What about that thing you were craving?” Daryl pointed the arrow tip at his pocket, the only place he could he carrying something. 

Dwight reached into his pocket pulling out a small object, for a moment he kept his hand closed into a tight fist. Pandora trained the gun on him just in case. The day had been too long and too hard for her to trust anyone. One wrong move and she would put a bullet in his brain, problem solved. 

“This? My grandfather taught me-“When he finally uncurled his fingers a small wooden around lay in his palm.

“Don’t care, it'll do.” Snatching it from his hand Daryl turned to her. No further words were needed, she shifted the bag off her should letting it drop to the ground. 

“It’s all there, good luck. You’re going to need it.” 

They turned together and started moving away from them. A weight eased off her chest as they turned away. It was done, they had done what Daryl wanted to do and now he would take her home. 

The calm around them shattered with the sound of branches cracking around them. Daryl was fast, faster than she ever thought she could be. Before she could blink he was pressing her into a tree truck wedging her between the rough bark and his body. 

There was the sound of boots and men shouting. The people were talking to them, screaming really. The words of the conversation never quite reached her ears, as hard as she tried to understand what they were saying. 

Daryl pressed one of his hands to her mouth, it was then she realized she was hyperventilating. “Focus on me,” he whispered into her ear. “We are going to run, ok?”

The idea of running seemed hilarious right now, they were surrounded. She could see them in front of her creeping through the trees, guns at the ready. Her head turned slightly, these must be the ones from before the men who had shot at them. Something clicked into place a like the last remaining piece of a puzzle. Those men on the road hadn’t been waiting for just anyone, they had been waiting for Dwight and host group, and they had just gotten caught in the crossfire. 

Suddenly he was shoving her forward, from the corner of her eye Dwight was trying to pull the blond girl up. Shoving her again Daryl moved backward putting his arm around the blond girl and tugging her forward. The five of them kept moving now together, staying low and quiet. The movement kept her focused, one foot, then another foot, head down, she gave instructions to herself.

Body running on auto pilot, she dashed behind a wall of burnt branches with everyone else. Panic thundered in her ears, she wasn’t going to make it. It was too much, too much running, hiding and almost dying. 

The voices around her were but only sounded like background noise to her brain. She curled into herself, knees putting pressure on her chest. One hand rubbed the raw skin at her wrist, the pain it caused helped only slightly. Something told her she should be trying harder to fight the fog to pay attention. But her body moved alone not needing her mind to be present it seemed. 

“Hey come on, you got it.” Daryl’s voice snapped her into focus; his hand squeezed hers before letting go.   
“What’s wrong with her?” It was the man’s voice again, Dwight. Somewhere she thought she heard someone call him Dwight. 

“She’s in shock. No thanks to you.” For the first time, she heard the true anger in his voice. Anger at her she thought. Struggling, she blinked looking up at him, but he wasn’t watching, his face was turned to Dwight. 

“Like I said, we didn’t know everyone there.” 

No reply from Daryl but they kept moving. Dwight shouted the younger girl’s name, Tina maybe.

Then she was sitting again, Daryl crouched in front of her, wrapping up the wounds on her wrists. He spoke to her slowly but the words never reached her. She tried, though, tried to hear the words and take them in. Her world had become fog. 

Her fingers traced the white bandages wrapped around her wrists. It was then she realized he was gone. There was screaming, then some crying. She only turned her head away from it to watch the sunlight streaking through the leaves. Time seemed to pass around her. Unable to keep track of its passing, she drifted away again. 

Her body ached, her mind was tired. More and more she thought she was going to die out here. Daryl would make it, he always did, but maybe not this time. Something would happen and she would be given to the trees. He couldn’t save her, he tried so hard. Part of her wondered why, why try?

“Come on Pandora, you gotta get up.” It was Daryl’s hands on her shoulders trying to pull her up. Her body didn’t cooperate though and suddenly she saw the desperation in his eyes. “Come on.” 

“I’m tired.” She whispered, turning away from him his hands falling from her shoulders. She was so tired, the weariness had sunk deep into her bones, making a home there. 

“Ah know.” That was all he said before pulling her up, ignoring her protests. 

The next thing she knew he was talking about a car. She blinked, seeing him pulling the bike from under the branches where he hid it. That moment seemed like it was a lifetime ago already. 

“Ah can walk it from here, until we meet with my friends. They have a car you can ride in.” Glancing at her, he jerked his head to the side. “Ya hold on this side, ok?” She only nodded, wrapping her hands around the handlebar of the bike to help him lead it out from the bush.   
Something clicked behind her, Daryl swore and spun around pulling the cross bow from his back. She stumbled, the weight of the bike too much for her to hold up alone, it tipped over onto the ground. Turning slowly, she watched them, trying to make sense of what was happening. Helplessly, her mouth opened and closed trying to form words. 

Dwight’s eyes snapped to her, “I'm sorry.” He was looking right at her now, rage curled in her stomach. “Give her the crossbow” 

“You gonna go back? - You gonna be safe? Ain't nowhere safe no more.” Daryl growled at them. 

“Give her the crossbow.” Dwight said again his voice holding an edge. Pandora watched helplessly as he pulled it off his shoulder and handed it over. 

Her body was flying into motion before her head knew what was happening. She flew at him, hands raised for the gun. Either she was slow or he was fast or both, but the butt of the gun connected with the side of her head, sending her spinning. Tumbling backward, the ground seemed to rise to meet her. The shock of the landing made her gasp, air rushing from her lungs. Darkness spotted her vision, she tried to blink it away but it only grew. 

The last thing she heard was the sound of the bike’s engine moving into the distance, then nothing.


	12. The Road Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we find ourselves again! Thank you guys for keeping and sticking with me! I am having a blast with this actually.   
> Anyway here is chapter 12, a little late today my BETA reader was late and I was putting up Christmas decorations all day. Still here you go. I'd love some comment love! It keeps me going!

The Road Home 

This time she woke gasping, hands flying out in front of her. Struggling to calm her breathing, her eyes closed again. It felt like a marching band was marching around in her brain. 

“Fuck.” She mumbled, tongue thick in her mouth. She tried to push herself into a sitting position but a weight pressed down on her. 

“Hey ya you need take it real slow.” Daryl’s voice was slow beside her, weary even. Opening her eyes again, she found herself laying half in his lap. She blinked again, eyes focusing on the ceiling above her. She was in a car, maybe a truck, panic rose in her chest when she couldn’t quite figure out where she was.

“Come on up,” Daryl said, his hands were on her shoulders now gently sitting her up. The world tilted around her, eyes shutting again she counted to ten before trying to open them. 

“Where are we?” she questioned, shifting her gaze around what she thought was a car. It wasn’t a car, however, but she realized now that they were too high up. 

“Ah found a truck, a fuel truck like they used to burn the walkers with. Brought ya here till ya woke up.” His hand was on her face then, moving the hair from her eyes to check her pupils. 

She stared back at him imagining what it must have been like to be alone and trying to keep her safe. Guilt filled her then and tears filled her eyes, the pounding in her head made everything worse. “I’m sorry.” She choked on the words, hands fluttering to her mouth. 

“Look at me.” She did, eyes traveling up to his face. “None of this is your fault. Look I’m gonna get us back now, we find Sasha and Abraham and we all go home ok.” 

Pandora nodded slowly, leaning her head back on the seat. She saw him look at her from the corner of his eye before he turned and started the truck. Shifting over, she checked the locks on the door. Her anxiety made her worry this would be taken from them too. She clicked the lock down, once, twice, three times. Three seemed like enough three seemed like it was locked for sure.

Once on the passenger side again she tried to lean her head against the cool glass. Hot tendrils of pain licked up the back of her neck, making her eyes water. The moment her head touched the glass though every bump they went over caused her head to bounce painfully against it.

“Come'er” Daryl finally said jerking his head. She sighed and slid next to him again. This time she rested her head on his shoulder, it was warm and steady making it much better than the window. 

“Do you ever regret bringing me to Alexandria?” she asked suddenly. This whole trip had been a mess really. Part of her knew that if she was someone else it would have been different. If she had been Carol or Michonne it would have been different, they would have actually been a help, not a hindrance.   
A scowl appeared on his face when he looked down at her. “Why'd you ask that?” 

His tone was sharper than she expected. Still, she laughed bitterly, maybe the head trauma was finally catching up with her. 

“Oh please, Daryl I’m a fucking mess.”   
“We all are.” 

That statement made her pause for a moment to consider. Searching through her memories she found the truth in his words. She could recall seeing the gleam of madness in Rick’s eyes sometimes. Seen Daryl woken up from his own nightmare and witnessed Abraham’s ticks and paranoia. 

“I guess,” She answered slowly. “You all just seem so together.” Her gaze turned to watch out the window, they were driving into the town they had been coming through before. She realized she didn’t ask how he was going to find them, it never occurred to her before. 

He scoffed, “We had time. Bad shit happened, we dealt with it, there was a break. You didn’t get a break.”   
The pounding that seemed to rattle her brain now was a living testament to his statement. She pressed her face harder into his shoulder, unable to answer. The smooth ride in the truck lulled her back into the darkness and sleep claimed her again. It was different this time, though; her sleep was deeper, so deep that not even the nightmares could find her. 

“Pandora, look.” Some time later his voice found her, opening her eyes she rubbed away the sleep. Mind still slightly foggy, she turned to follow his finger. Scratched into a metal door was the word Dixon. If she still wasn’t so tired she may have cried with relief. 

He stopped the truck putting it into park, after a few horrible moments the door opened. Pandora was out of her seat and flying into Abraham’s arms before she could think about it. The ground pitched and her empty stomach heaved with the sudden movement, but he caught her nonetheless. Strong arms wrapped her into a tight hug as she sobbed helplessly against him. 

“Come on kid,” he said patting her head lightly “Let’s go home.” 

They were squeezed in a little tight once Sasha and Abraham were inside, but it didn’t matter. The warmth of being pressed against the two of them quickly lulled her back to sleep. A few times she broke through the fog so their conversation floated into her mind. 

“Held a gun to our head.” 

“We went back for you.” 

“Concussion I think.” 

The next time she woke, it was because someone was shaking her gently. When she opened her eyes, Abraham’s hard face greeted her. 

“Look, alive kid, we got company.” Blinking, she lifted her head from his shoulder and struggled to clear the hair from her eyes. It felt heavy with oil and dirt; she winced thinking about how hard she was going to have to wash it to get it clean again. While her mind wandered she almost forgot the reason she was waking up until she felt Abraham shift beside her. 

Men stood in the road before them, all on motorcycles and all holding guns. Dark eyes darted around her, they all only had one gun each, she didn’t even have one anymore. Daryl stopped the truck, gaze flicking to Abraham. 

“Why don't you come on out, join us in the road?” The man in the front was speaking to them, leaning casually on the side of his bike. 

Slowly, everyone inside the truck moved to get out. Fear pounded through her veins, and her body refused to cooperate, staying glued to the seat. 

“Come on now I meant everyone. Even you pretty lady.” Colour drained from her face when she realized he was speaking to her. Daryl tugged at her hand pulling her out gently, she stood beside him feeling exposed. Her brain worked hard to make her body stand still and keep her face as calm as everyone else looked. 

“That's great. It's going well right out of the gate. Now, step two, hand over your weapons.” 

“Why should we?” Daryl’s answering snarl vibrated through her since she was standing so close to him.   
“Well, they're not yours.” The man answered as if they were stupid.

“Whose are they?” Sasha’s voice now. Her mind was doing that thing again, the thing where it shut itself down as protection. She tried to warn Daryl, her hands reached for his squeezing tightly but he didn’t move, not even to look at her. 

“Your property now belongs to Negan. And if you can get your hands on a tanker, your people our person wants to know. So let's get those sidearms, shall we? Right now.” 

Daryl was reaching behind him to get the gun he had. “Thank you.” The man’s cold glance turned to her then, holding his hand out. She didn’t move as she was unable to process what it was he wanted from her.  
“She don’t got one.” Daryl snarled taking a half step towards her. 

“Now, now do you think I’d really believe that?” A hand flew out for her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward. Pandora screamed as his other hand ran over her body quickly. In a flash she was back with the wolves in a darkened forest, hands bound. The sound of his laughing tuned her into his words. “Hm guess you were right, I wouldn’t give her a gun either, little unstable this one.” 

Daryl was in front of her then blocking them from her view, the wings on his vest swam in her tear-filled vision. The world didn’t come back into focus until she realized Daryl wasn’t in front of her anymore. She looked around and realizes he’s being shoved into the back of the truck, she turns trying to follow when a voice stops her. 

“Not you Princess, you stay right here with us. Why don’t you go join your friends can’t have you passing out on us?” 

Her feet don’t move, though, he said a lot of things but she didn’t understand any of them. Abraham comes to get her though putting a hand around her arm and pulling her to stand beside him. He says something she doesn’t catch but then the man is speaking again.

“You see, usually we introduce ourselves by just popping one of you right off the bat. But you seem like reasonable people. I mean, you're sportin' dress blues, for Christ's sake. And, like I said, we're gonna drive you back to where you were. I mean, do you know how awkward it is carpooling with someone whose friend or friends you've just killed? Oof. But I told you not to ask any questions. And then what does this ginger do? So that's that. I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me.”

The hammer click forces her to look at the gun now. 

“Might as well be the Princess here, she looks half dead anyway.” 

Pandora cocked her head to the side watching him with detected curiosity. How many times had she been this close to death, it always seemed too easy to her? Why was everyone so scared of it, one bullet and it was over. 

“Wait! Wait.” 

Sasha says something else, there is more speaking but Pandora doesn’t really hear it she just steps forward towards the raised gun. When the man lowers it her heart flutters: disappointment? Anger? Relief? She wasn’t sure what it was she felt. 

Pandora doesn’t hear him decide to put the gun down then pick it back up. The next thing she registers is white hot heat and the feeling of being swept off her feet. Temporarily blinded, her vision was nothing but a sea of white and her ears rang painfully, blocking out the world around her. 

She turned to her side feeling the contents of her stomach shift upwards and then she was vomiting onto the road beside her. Colour leeched back into the world then and she could make out the side of the truck. Abraham’s face was suddenly looming over her. Her hands flew out, pushing him away, his mouth was moving she would see that but no sound was coming out. 

He stepped back and she pushed herself up watching him, unable to understand what he was saying. The ringing in her ears was fading slowly but not enough for her to make out anything. Not knowing what else to do, she held up three fingers and touched her ears. 

Abraham nodded slowly and helped her up and back into the cab of the truck. She was between Daryl and Abraham again. 

“She couldn’t hear me.” Abrahams voice now fading back into her hearing. 

“She was standing too close to them, walking towards the gun.” Sasha now, she turned her head towards the other women while sticking a finger in her ear to try and clear the last of the ringing. 

“Ah,” She muttered covering her ears. “Now you’re all too loud.”

Sasha chuckled at that. “You’re a mess Pandora gotta get the doctor to check you out back home.”   
Despite still not being home it was so close she could taste it. Relief washed over her once she was able to hear them again. The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence. She was fine with that; her mind was a mess anyway. She wasn’t even sure she could have joined in on a conversation. 

Hours passed the sun set in front of them and Pandora fought to stay awake. Abraham checked in on her from time to time. Shaking her and checking her pupils, each time she waved him away unable to meet his eyes. 

“Kid?” He finally asked when her head lulled to the side trying to look away from him. 

“Abraham I’m fine.” She muttered. Her head turned towards the window watching the sky darken. 

In front of them, the walls of Alexandria appeared. Excitement fluttered inside her, Daryl rolled down the window it was too quiet. Pandora’s head snapped up, turning towards the open window, her hand rested on Daryl’s arm lightly. 

“Something isn’t right.” Abraham snarled. The door opened and both he and Sasha stepped out of the truck, guns ready. 

Pandora was faster, though; a lifetime of gymnastic training moved her body without her needing to think about it. With one hand she pulled herself to the top of the truck, muscles screamed at the movement but she ignored them. 

Being on top of the truck she could stand on the edge of the wall. She could hear the dead before she saw them. Leaning over the edge she saw Maggie on the watch tower. The dead were all around her shaking the frame. Then Glenn was there shouting and drawing the dead away. 

“Abraham! Sasha!” Pandora was jumping down then off the top of the wall then landing on her feet on the ground. “Glenn is down there! Help him” Gunfire was heard behind her. They didn’t answer, only rushed past her and within seconds there was the sound of gunfire. 

Daryl was in the truck still waiting for the gate to open. When she slipped back into the passenger seat he was glaring at her, rage swirling in his gaze. 

“The hell you doin'” he snarled at her, hands white on the wheel. 

“I had to see!” she answered hissing at him, eye wide and panicked. “The dead are inside the walls, Daryl.” The fear tasted all too familiar now, the dull pounding that was in her head seemed to understand now was not the time and stepped out of the for front. 

“We gon fix it.” He stated, turning his eyes back to the gate. 

The sound of Sasha and Abraham shooting down the dead made her smile just a little bit, they would fix it.

When Glenn opened the gate Daryl drove forward, cleared it and it was shut behind him. As soon as he was stopped, she was outside. Dimly, she heard him shouting at her but she ignored it. Her hands gripped the first rung of the laddered on the side of the truck, it slipped slightly slick and wet with the blood now flowing from her wrists. Unthinking and wiped them on her legs and kept climbing upwards. 

The dead roamed the streets, some moving towards them, some moving away towards sounds she could faintly hear. Her hands covered her mouth; she was tumbling to the edge of panic now. In that moment she remembered the feeling of burning her skin on the soup and how it had helped with the noise in her brain. With one hand she tightened her grip around the cuts on her wrist wrapped now in blood covered bandages. The pain was like a lightening bolt lighting up the night sky, everything was clearer.   
“Abraham!” She hissed once he had helped Maggie and Enid down. “Give me a knife.” 

He glared at her but didn’t move. “Please!” She begged. “I need to be able to protect myself.” 

Sighing, he handed one over, a big hunting knife. She remembers having one before, where it was now she had no idea. Someone in the cab knocked on the ceiling getting their attention, they were going to start moving. Tucking the knife in her pants she slid back down and into the seat beside Glenn. 

They had not really gotten to know each other, but still, she placed a hand on his arm and smiled. “I’m glad you’re ok.” 

He only nodded and looked back at Daryl. 

“I really hope you have a plan.” She muttered when he started moving. Her fingers rubbed her wrist as she listened to him explain what he was going to do. Her heart hammered in her chest but between the pain and the adrenaline, she didn’t have room for anything else. 

Sticking her head out the window she pointed ahead, “Right here Daryl, this spot works.” 

He turned the truck around and parked it, jumping out. She didn’t waste time and slipped out after him, shutting the door. Stepping around him she watched him empty the fuel into the lake. The others spread out taking out anything that came too close to Daryl. 

Squaring her shoulders, she did the same and started driving her knife into the head of anything that was moving too close to them. 

“Bitch nuts!” She heard Abraham scream, her head whipped around to see him barrelling towards her. “Get the hell over here.” 

She shook her head and moved beside him, she wouldn’t stop killing the dead she would just do it close to him so he didn’t worry. Daryl came running around the front of the car then grabbing her arm and pulling her with him. 

“Come on!” He shouted, “Get in and move it.” 

Abraham moved first, sliding into the driver’s seat, the others filed in after him. Helplessly she looked at Daryl still standing beside her. 

“Ahm going on the roof, you comin?” She nodded and before he could change his mind she was grabbing and ladder with once hand and vaulting her body onto the top of the truck. She could have sworn she could hear Abraham cursing from the inside. 

“Sit!” He told her once he was beside her. For the first time she did, covering her ears with her hands as she watched him point to the rocket launching at the now fuel filled lake. 

In a flash, the whole night was lighting up, flames spread from the lake to the river burning a hot path through the air. The dead turned, drawn by the light and the sound. Below them, everyone was out now weapons raised. Daryl was getting down, knife in his hand. He didn’t look back at her either forgetting of letting her make this call for herself. 

Something snapped and it was almost like she was outside her body looking down at herself. She was moving before they knew she was moving, knife out taking down as many dead as she could. She felt nothing, no pain, no fear, no panic only a cold rage that grew with every one of the dead she took down. She didn’t stop like the others; she kept going, taking down as many as she could. 

She fought until her knees gave in and she hit the ground hard. Blood covered her, some her own from wounds that had opened, some from the dead she took down. Someone was there beside her then, lifting her. She couldn’t see through the blood and sweat in her eyes. 

“You did great kid.” 

She couldn’t answer; everything she had felt before came back ten-fold, pain screaming in her body. She struggled slightly against the hold of whoever had her, but eventually she gave in and went limp.   
She must have blacked out because when she came to again she was laying on a hospital bed, Denise’s face over hers. 

“There you are.” She breathed. “Got you all patched up, just rest ok? It’s over you're home.” 

Home, she thought as she drifted away again. She was home.


	13. Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week another chapter! I'm still having a lot of fun writing this, most of my inspiration happens at work! Hope you all enjoy, don't forget to drop me a comment!

Chapter 13 Different 

A breeze came through the window blowing the heavy wet strands of Pandora’s hair. Pandora didn’t move to shut it or move the hair form her face. She stayed in the chair she had pulled to the window, knees drawn to her chest and a heavy blanket wrapped around her. The heavy feeling the blanket was providing felt almost like a hug, almost like something was wrapping its arms around her and holding her tight. 

It had been a week since they had made it back, a week since they had killed hundreds of the dead to take back their home. A week since she had learned that while she was away, the wolves had come. Since then she had not left the room. Not to get food, to see Abraham or Aaron, nothing. Every time someone tried to come in she would promptly lock herself in the bathroom, or slip away into some corner of her mind refusing to speak. Daryl still slept in the room but he was gone all day by the time he was back she was sleeping. Every night he tried to wake her, every time he came back he tried to get her to speak. The only time she opened her mouth and made any sound was to scream at night when the nightmares came. 

She had lost count of how many times Denise and others had come in and sat by the bathroom door talking to her. She hadn’t opened the door yet though. Empty plates of food littered the room, clothes piled into corners. She hadn’t cleaned or eaten really, it just kept piling up. 

A knock on her door made her turn. 

“Pandora, come on it’s me.” Daryl’s voice came from the other side of the door. 

She tried to push herself up from the chair to move to the bathroom, but every movement became too hard to complete. Her body felt weak, empty. How long had it been since she had eaten, a day, maybe two, maybe three? She couldn’t remember. She had gotten up not long ago to shower and change. When she walked past the plate of food nothing appealed to her. Lost in her own thoughts she didn’t even hear the click of the door opening.

“Fuck,” There was a whispered curse from Daryl. “Doc come on in, Ahm need you.”

He was in front of her then snapping his fingers in her face. Her hand came up to push his out of the way. Even that took effort as just the act of lifting her hand made her feel weak.

“No, no, you gotta eat or the Doc sticks a needle in you.” 

Pandora dimly registered the word needle. It had her reaching for the plate that he put in front of her. She didn’t taste anything just put it in her mouthsz, bite, chew, shallow, and again. 

Once again he was reaching for the plate, this time it was because it was empty. 

“Did she eat?” Denise was asking from somewhere behind her. “Get her to drink this.” 

Daryl was handing her something else now, a tall glass with a straw. The glass was cold, her gaze flickered down. It was filled with a dark brown liquid, her stomach flipped in protest. Nose wrinkled, she tried to hand it back to him.

“Drink it.” His tone left no room for argument; a shaking hand took the glass back from him. 

It tasted like chocolate; it was heavy settling into her stomach. Under the glare of Daryl, she finished the drink and handed it back to him. It left an after taste of chemicals that coated her mouth. 

“That’s real good.” He was beside her now, looking down at her. “What number are you on?” 

It was a question he still asked everyday even when she wasn’t able to give him an answer. Still he waited, Denise was there again too beside her.   
“Pandora you have to let us help you.” There was a pleading tone in her voice. How could they even ask her that, helping her would be allowing her to never leave this room again. Outside of this door there were people and people were unpredictable. A sigh escaped her lips and she held up three fingers, the tension was a thrum in her veins. 

“I can’t leave here,” She whispered half to herself. “I can’t be out there.” There was the barrel of the gun in her face again, the rope around her wrists. The vision she had put together in her head of the wolves coming right through the gate, right for her. She was rocking back and forth, she felt it, but she couldn’t stop. 

“Damn it.” Daryl growled. He sounded farther away now. “Ya gotta give her something to calm her down. It’s been a damn week and she won’t leave here.”   
Anger in his voice directed at her. Angry she couldn’t get her shit together long enough to even step outside her goddamn room. Rocking harder, she covered her ears with her hands, unable to bear the sound of his voice. 

There was more talking but she couldn’t make it out with her hands firmly in place over her ears. It was better this way anyway, better not to hear them. But when someone pulled her hands down from her ears she jumped and started screaming. 

Tara was kneeling down in front of her now, holding her hands down. Denise was beside her hovering. 

“Pandora look at me and breathe ok?” Tara was speaking to her now, her voice low and controlled. Pandora only nodded, forcing her breathing to become slow and controlled. She wasn’t sure how much time she spent like that, but it must have been a while. 

Denise spoke to her slowly as she breathed, telling her all the things that she knew to be true. Reminding her they fixed the wall, they killed the dead and it was safe again. 

“I almost died out there,” She finally whispered her voice was horse from lack of use for so long. “Every time I close my eyes I see either the wolves or the barrel of that gun in my face.” Where ever these words had been locked away they were spilling out now in a panicked wave. “It would have been so easy! All of this would have been over. I’m a burden Denise don’t you see that?! The best survivor and the most valuable person here spend their days taking care of me and for what? I can’t even get my shit together. What could I ever offer this place?” 

The room was silent then, but she was moving, pushing past Tara to rush for the bathroom door. Flinging the door open she rushed inside, gasping and sobbing heavily. Something inside her cracked, the wall she had up holding back the days she spent outside the wall shattered like glass. 

The door shut behind her; whirling, she saw Daryl moving towards her. Her hands went out to stop him at first but then she found herself clinging to him. He was a life raft, and she had been close to drowning for so long. She sobbed helplessly against his chest, guilt, grief and fear flowing out of her. 

He held her tightly though pressing her head into his chest. He whispered to her then, first the usual stuff that she was safe and everything was fine. Then he told her stories, from before his group came here, from even before the world turned to shit. She listened, pressed against him trying to breathe slowly. 

“Ah should have never brought you out there.” He whispered when she had finally stopped crying. Calm was settling over her now, calmer than she had felt in a long time. The calm you can only get from emptying an ocean of emotion through tears. “I should have known it wouldn’t be safe.” 

She looked at him then, moving a strand of hair from his eyes. “I don’t blame you.” Her voice was a thin whisper, the action of moving her hand made her feel like she had run a marathon. She didn’t really blame him; she blamed herself for not being enough. Not strong enough, not fast enough or not brave enough. She was always falling short of what was needed; this new world wasn’t made for people like her anymore. 

Daryl shook his head slowly and leaned back, hand braced against the floor. “You ready to get up?” He asked lightly. She realized then that she was sitting on the floor, in his lap no less. Her face colored as she leaned away from him.

She actually nodded yes, which surprised even herself. She was feeling better now than she had in a long time. Standing, she turned her back to the mirror not ready to face her own reflection. She walked back into the bedroom; everything had been put back in its proper place. The dirty clothes she had lying around were gone, replaced by some new ones folded on the dresser. 

All the things she had thrown around during her fits were put back in their place and reorganized. A few protein bars and some new books were on her dresser. The sight made her heart ache, that feeling was quickly replaced by guilt because they were all so selfless.   
Her feet found themselves moving back to the big chair in front of the window. Daryl followed pulling up the second one beside her. The room had been set up to house the both of them, it was a little cramped but she never once heard him complain. Two chairs and two beds, he had some things the drawers. Before they had gone out of the walls he hadn’t been staying here as often, after he slept here every night. 

“What number are you on?” He asked leaning back against the chair watching her. 

She held up three fingers, anxiety buzzing at her nerves. She turned away not wanting to look at him. He seemed to always be able to see right through her, sometimes it was unnerving. 

“Ya know Ah ain’t letting you do that again, right?” By that she was guessing he meant her nearly becoming catatonic, because she couldn’t think of anything else she had done. “Gotta ask you something.” 

Pandora turns slightly tilting her head to side as a way to show him he can continue. Her mind struggled to pay attention to him, when people were calm and quiet it helped as too much energy made her shut down. 

“Ah got a new place just for me little townhouse, Ah want you to come with me.” 

The question shocked her slightly, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to respond. She tucked her legs under her body to keep her body heat in. Turning to him she only managed to raise her eyebrows at him questioning. 

“Ya don’t have to answer right now.” He said, back-tracking now, hands raised and watching her cautiously. 

She wasn’t going to answer right now anyway; she wasn’t sure that her head would let her get an answer out. Her body was tried more so now with trying to follow this conversation. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed as they sat in comfortable silence. Her eyes drifted back to the window, everyone around never seemed to stop moving. Everyone was always working, new walls, fixing homes, moving the debris from the tower. Part of her wished they she could be out there with, not that she was sure what she could even do. 

She wasn’t sure when it happened; she didn’t even remember shutting her eyes. But then they were opening again, the bright light of the morning sun shining full force on her face. She shifted her bones and joints grinding from stiffness. For a few moments, she sat there stretching out the aches from her arms, lifting them above her head and out in front of her. Legs next, she un-tucked them from her under her, feet hitting the floor softly. Her knees groaned painfully when she tried to move them. With growing realization, she knew she needed to stand to work out the pain in her joints. 

Fingers digging into the arm rest on the chair, she pushed hard, lifting her body up from the seat. Her entire body felt like it was full of heavy lead. Licking her lips, she tried to moisten the dryness in her mouth, nothing seemed to work. Fingers gripping the chair she tried to use it to support herself as she moved. 

‘Left foot, right foot, left foot right foot.’ She told herself repeatedly as she made her way towards the bathroom door. With every step her sore and stiff body woke up more, every step was easier to take. 

The bright lights of the bathroom burned her eyes, flicking all of them off save for one she moved to the shower in the dime light. Naked she took inventory on her injuries 

“Afternoon.” Daryl was sitting in her window seat now legs up on the window sill in front of him. Her gaze flickered to the tall glass of liquid beside him. Before she had even crossed the room, he was standing in front of her the glass in his hand. 

“Drink.” He told her sternly. 

This time she did with little resistance. When she was finished, she set it down on the small table between the chairs. Settling back in the chair she tucked her legs under her again. Daryl was standing behind her now; he draped a heavy quilt on her shoulders. The heavy feeling was a comfort, reminding her to feel her body, to remember where she was. 

Time stretched out between them in the comfortable silence. After a while she heard him shift in his chair, she turned slightly to look at him. “Ah need a smoke.” He remarked standing and padding his pockets to look for the pack. 

Oh, he was good she thought slowly, he was really good. He knew just what he was doing that glint in his eyes gave him up. Slowly gripping the sides of the chair she hoisted herself up. Her legs were shaky unsteady, weak from lack of food and movement. Still she stretched them, bending on leg straight out in front of her, before stretching it to the ceiling. 

If Daryl was impressed he didn’t show it, only turned and made his way out the door without a glance back at her. Pandora followed though each step slow and careful. You can go back inside at any moment she told herself. But inside, she couldn’t smoke, Denise had made that clear to her. 

The large sweater she wore allowed her to hide her shaking hands in the too long sleeves. The main floor was empty, save for a room in the back where Carl was still in a coma. She hadn’t heard the whole story, not yet at least but she knew that he had been shot. Everyone had been worried he wouldn’t make it, but she knew somehow she knew he would. These people were different, they always survived. 

When she stepped out onto the porch Daryl was already leaning on the railing with a lite cigarette hanging from his lips. He smirked at her and handed her one of her own. The bitter tang of the smoke filled her lung once it was lit. The breath in her lungs was slower now savoring the smoke. 

“Well, Well Mr. Dixon has done it.” Aaron appeared on the side walk in front of the house. There was a small finch that she hoped was hiding by the size of her sweater. 

Aaron had come by sometimes too, a few times she hadn’t even hidden from him just sat in the big chair and listened. He was different now; she could tell everything that had happened had changed him. As it usually did, the world beyond these walls was cold now. People like Daryl, like Aaron they didn’t exist out there anymore. 

“I thought you two might be hungry.” He was placing two plastic containers on the small table between the chairs. She titled her head to peer inside, it looked like pasta. “It’s Eric’s spaghetti, one of Daryl’s favorites.” He added with a wink in her direction. 

Beside her, Daryl snorted but said thank you. Aaron was looking at her again, “I’d like to visit tomorrow if you’re up for it.”

Not trusting her voice, she only nodded. It was rewarded by his smile. 

Turning to leave, he waved over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow then Pandora.” 

When he was gone they finished smoking in silence, when Daryl finally put his out he jerked his head to the door. 

“Come on let’s eat.”


	14. A new normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday wonderful readers. As you all know we are getting closer and closer to Christmas. I think I will post another chapter next week, then take some time off for the holidays. As always please let me know what you think! I love hearing from you.

The New Normal 

Daryl took the food back to the room, setting it on the window sill in front of the big chairs. 

“Eat.” He ordered, gesturing toward the food. 

With lumbering steps, she slipped her boots off and settled into the chair, pulling the lid off the container. It did smell good; it was still warm as steam tendrils were drifting up. Somewhere in her mind she was sure she felt guilty for making him worried. It was hidden though, hidden behind the increasing paranoia she had been feeling. 

Between bites of food, she glanced at Daryl who was plowing through the content of his container. Aaron had been right; this was a dish he liked. She was able to finish half of hers before her stomach began to revolt at the amount of food she was consuming. 

Wordlessly, she pushed the rest toward him. He inspected what she had eaten before he finished the rest himself. 

When he was finished he turned to her again. 

“Gotta see how you’re healing ok?” 

Panic flared inside her causing her heart to beat wildly inside her chest. She tucked her hands under her folded legs to hide them, as if it would cause him to forget. 

No one had checked her wounds since the day after she had been back. She hadn’t allowed anyone to look at her. The cuts on her wrists were the worst she knew, when she felt too panicked or began to slip away she would rub them raw so the pain grounding her. 

Daryl moved toward her, either not noticing her panic or not caring. “Can I?” He questioned, fingers brushing the helm of her shirt.   
Numbly, she nodded, keeping her eyes on the window behind him. Slowly, she stood as she slipped the sweater off, leaving her in only a tank top. He lifted that slightly too to peer at the bruising along the right side of her torso. He was gentle, fingers brushing her skin lightly, color rose in her cheek as goose bumps prickled her skin.

“Looks good, it’s healing nicely.” She glanced down before he pulled her shirt down. The skin was a greenish yellow color, the bruising fading from the angry purple it had been. 

He checked her arm next; it was scabbing over from the hit she took when they fell off the bike. The sweater was back in her hands now so she slipped it over her head, hands shaking.

He reached for her left hand, she jerked back and stumbled causing her to bump into the bed. 

“Pandora Ah ain’t gonna hurt you.” Daryl’s voice was calm as he stepped towards her again. “And Ah ain’t gonna be mad.” 

“ I-I-I” Her brain refused to cooperate with her demands of communication. She stammered, unable to get anything out. Tears pooling in her eyes, she held her hands out to him, taking deep shuttering breaths. 

Carefully, he un-wrapped the bandages while she watched, unable to look away. An angry red line about an inch thick ringed both her wrists. Panic flared, her breaths coming faster now. 

“Hey, hey it’s ok come'ere.” He led her into the bathroom then sitting her down on the toilet. When she blinked again, he was holding a cloth in his hand. “This is going to sting ok?” 

She only nodded, avoiding his eyes. When he wiped the wound the stinging cut through her panic and she sucked in a breath, hissing through her teeth.   
“Sorry.” He muttered. The apology rang hollow, however, because he didn’t stop but only started on the next wrist. 

Pandora bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood in her mouth. While trying to keep her breathing under control, she didn’t notice that he had finished and was now wrapping her in clean white bandages again. 

“All done” He said standing up and running his hand over his face. “I’m gonna go see Rick and Carl.” 

He didn’t ask her to come knowing she wouldn’t. Instead they both stood, leaving the bathroom. When she turned toward her bed he caught her arm “Ah’ll be back.” 

Without thinking, she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek gently before moving to the bed. Sleep was something she could never seem to get enough of these days. Between the nightmares, she was lucky to even be sleeping for a few hours at a time. 

As she turned away from the door she heard him leave, heavy foot falls echoing down the hall. Slipping out of her clothes, she tossed them in the hamper. In the dresser, she found a large t-shirt that fell past her knees once it was on. Sliding under the blankets she sighed and under the warmth her eyes grew heavy. The beauty of sleep never lasted though.

In her dream the burnt forest felt so real, the ash coated her lungs as she breathed. Fire burned in her legs as she ran. A voice whispered in her head telling her to keep running, keep running. Just like before, a root caught her foot sending her stumbling down, only she never stopped falling. Darkness filled the space around her as she fell. Her mouth opened, but there seemed to be no air, nothing she could suck in to even scream. 

The sensation of hitting the ground jolted her out of sleep. Bolting upwards, her hands clasped over her mouth to stop the scream she was sure was coming. Minutes stretched by as she sat up in the bed gasping for breath. When she was finally calm, her eyes drifted to the side to see that Daryl was gone. His bed looked as if he hadn’t even slept in it. 

Panic gripped her again, where was he? He said he was going to be here, he said he would come back. Flying from the bed, she tugged on a pair of jeans she had left on the floor. Before she registered where she was going, she was outside. 

The night was cool and calm, blanketing Alexandria in the type of silence that only came from the hours of deep night. Standing at the bottom of the steps, her brain finally caught up with her and she realized she had no idea where she was even going to look. 

Turning, she glanced down the street. He usually did watch in the same tower. Her legs found themselves moving in that direction. Rustling could be heard from the top of the lookout, relief filled her. He had to be up there, maybe he got called last minute and couldn’t tell her. She was climbing the ladder now slowly, but when she got to the top she froze. 

Staring back at her was a baffled looking Michonne. The next breath she took was more like a gasp. 

“I-I-I was l-l-looking for Daryl.” She stammered hands closing into fists at her sides. Panic raged inside her, if he wasn’t here she didn’t know where he was.   
“Hey, hey it’s ok.” Michonne was beside her then, hands on her shoulders. Pandora flinched but the woman didn’t pay it any mind and just let her hands fall away. “He’s at my house watching Judith. Let me take you.” 

Numbly, she could only nod and follow the other woman down the ladder. Pandora hadn’t seen the other woman much since everything had happened. She knew that her and Rick took turns sitting with the unconscious Carl, as well as taking care of Judith.

“Pandora? This way.” Michonne was moving down a darkened street to their right. Pandora followed behind her closely, realizing then that she couldn’t remember where the house was. The house that Daryl had once shared with Rick and them, he had moved somewhere else. He had told her that just the other day; he had gotten his own place, a place he wanted her to come to. 

She was standing then at the steps to the front door, Michonne opened it glancing back at her. Pandora climbed the stairs, stepping into the front of the home. Glancing around, she saw him lying on the sofa with his arm over his eyes. His boots off, forgotten on the floor. He stirred as she stepped forward, the floor squeaking under her feet. 

Opening one eye he looked up from under his arm, face still heavy with sleep. “Pandora? Wh-” He didn’t get to finish because she was flying at him, throwing herself on top of him where he lay. She tried not to cry, biting down on the inside of her cheek to stop the sounds. 

“Hey, hey.” He cooed at her, sitting up and pulling her up with him so that she was sitting in his lap with her legs hanging off the edge of the sofa. Her arms were in a vice grip around his neck, frame shaking against him. 

Somewhere, she knew this level of panic was completely uncalled for, but her terror was never logical. Heart pounding, tears leaking form her eyes, she stayed like that for a while, her face hidden against his chest. 

“I woke up,” She stammered. “You weren’t there.” 

At first he didn’t answer, only held her by the shoulders and pushed her away slightly so he could look at her. 

“Ah told you Ah would come back.” His voice was a low rumble against her. 

“You could have gone outside the walls, and then anything could have happened.” 

Pandora watched the hard lines of his face soften slightly when she finished speaking, she had to look away. His eyes seemed too bright in the darkness of the room. 

“Sorry,” He was pulling her close again, into a tight hug. “Ah should have come and told you first.” 

Pandora nodded leaning away from him, she slid off his lap, face feeling hot. She knew she was being stupid, but right now with the tang of panic in her mouth she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. 

It was only when she had calmed down that she realized Michonne was gone, and it was just the two of them. Well the two of them and Judith, her gaze shifted to the tiny picture on the monitor. The little girl was still sleeping peacefully, not even moving at all the sounds downstairs. 

It was odd to see a baby right now, to think that someone thought it was a good idea to bring a baby into a world like this. Judith seemed almost two years old now which means she was born before they had this place. She remembered Daryl telling her about the prison they had lost, the perfect place.

“Looks like yer stuck till Michonne comes back.” He muttered leaning back on the sofa, he tucked his hands behind his head and sighed. “Ahm sorry I didn’t tell yah where Ah was going.” 

Pulling her knees to her chest, she sighed resting her chin top of them, “Sorry I freaked the fuck out.” She whispered, worried that being too loud would wake up the baby. 

“Ain’t your fault.” He answered shaking his head slightly. One arm covering his eyes now. She turned her head to the side and watched him.   
“Why do you care so much?” She asked, she had asked him this before, but now he asked her to live with him. He had taken the full weight of helping her through the recovery, if they could even call it a recovery. 

“Cause there were still people out there people worth saving,” He said peering at her from under his arm. “I know that yer worth saving.” 

“Maybe I was before, not now, not anymore.” Her voice was soft, holding no real emotion in it, just fact. 

“Yah can come back. Everyone can come back.” 

Pandora still watched him, tears blurring her vision. She blinked them away before they fell. She wondered what it was that he thought he saw in her. But that was for another day she guessed, he was good that was all the reason she needed right now. He was one of the few good men standing in a sea of shit.   
“Before all of this,” She gestured with her hands to the room around her. “I was a gymnast; I went to the Olympics and everything. I even won a gold medal.” She remembered that she wore it all the time; even after the world went to shit she kept it with her. She had left it behind when they left the apartment building, in the bag in her room. 

There hadn’t been time to get it, not when the dead had cracked the glass and started to pour inside. She remembered how naked she felt without the cold weight of it around her neck. The sound of Daryl clearing his throat next to her triggered her back to reality. 

“I thought training was hard but I never imagined how hard it could get.” She muttered. Her knees were still pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. She had thought that getting up at the crack of dawn and training until she was bleeding was hard, but this new world, this was hard. 

“Where did ya go? To get the medal.” He didn’t comment on the last things she had said, no he steered her away from that onto something different. 

“Brazil, Rio Olympics.” She smiled now, remembering the feeling of being there, of being a part of something so big. When she looked at Daryl again he was watching her openly, an odd expression on his face. The smile slipped from her face, her eyes brows shooting up into her forehead. “What?” She asked, suddenly self-conscious. 

“Nothin’ never seen ya smile before.” 

That statement made her laugh suddenly, a harsh unused sound. She found herself smiling again, watching him, “You’re a good man Daryl Dixon.”   
The side of his mouth curved up in a tiny smile and he turned away, pulling a blanket off the side of sofa. Tossing it toward her he slid toward the end of the sofa.

“Oh no, I’m done with sleeping.” She murmured, shaking her head from side to side. 

He only shrugged, pulling the blanket over himself instead, feet resting on the table in front of him. 

“Ah’ll sleep then.” 

Turning his head to the side and closing his eyes he did just that. She watched him for a while until the sound of his breathing was slow and steady. Then she got up and moved to the kitchen, the feeling of hunger tugged at her. 

The home looked lived in, bottles on the counter, some plates still in the sink. She would guess cleaning was not the first thing on their mind right now. She stepped up to the sink, turning on the water and getting to work. It didn’t take long until the kitchen was clean again and Pandora was peeking in the fridge.   
“Not much in there.” The voice behind her made her jump, fingers tightening on the handle of the fridge. It took a few moments of deep breathing before she was able to close the door and face Rick. He stood leaning against the island, new containers of food were sitting in front of him that had not been there before. 

“S-s-sorry,” The word was strained, her head roared as her nerves were making her shake. “I was just looking for something to eat.” 

Rick gestured to the food in front of him, “Here, help yourself.” 

She moved to gather two plates and forks. Opening both containers, she made two plates. One container was a type of fried rice, the other corned beef. Sliding the plate over to Rick, she took her own. Sitting on the chair at the island, she made sure to put a healthy amount of distance between them. She was uneasy and he made her more uneasy, all of this was a dangerous slope. 

“You did this?” His chin jerked to the stack of clean dishes drying on the counter. 

Pandora only nodded, shoving a forkful of food into her mouth. She glanced outside quickly, the sky was beginning to lighten meaning it must be close to sun rise. 

“Thank you.” He said, nodding and going back to his food. 

They ate in silence for a while, both of them fixing their gaze to the plates in front of them. The fork in her hand clattered against the plate when she took more food, her hands unable to keep steady right now. 

“You helped us take this place back; this is your home now too. I know I didn’t make it seem like that before” Pandora looked down at her hands tightened into fists on either side of her plate. The memories of that night threatened to surface, the feeling of being covered in warm blood, the bodies piling up around them. 

“Sorry,” He said, hands in the air. “Daryl told me not to, sometimes I forget.” He was moving then, standing in front of her. Startled, she jumped backward, the chair clattering to the floor. 

She turned, picking the chair up and standing behind it. Her hands tightened on the wooden back. Her brain struggled to make coherent thoughts, Rick was watching her closely. He had stepped back now, putting more space between them. 

“S-sorry,” She whispered. “I had to help, you need this place.” Her voice was hardly above a whisper but he seemed to hear it. 

“So do you.” He replied. 

Daryl appeared in the opening to the living room then, his hand rubbing his eyes. “S’lright?” 

Pandora nodded, turning she put a plate together for him, setting in on the counter beside her. A ploy she was sure that he saw right through, having him close made her feel calm. Stiffly, she slipped back into the chair she was in before, Daryl slipped into the one beside her and Rick was already sitting down.   
“How’s Carl?” Daryl asked around the food in his mouth. The tension felt like it was leaking out of her, having him carry the weight of a conversation was much better. She went back to eating her food as well, glancing at them through the strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes. 

Rick’s sigh was audible, filled with all the pain of almost losing someone, “No change, he could wake up any day now though.” 

“He will.” Pandora was speaking before she knew what she was even saying. “He survives, just like all of you.” 

The two men seemed to have been stunned into silence; they both looked at her slightly opened mouth. She returned to eating, trying not to feel uncomfortable under their gazes.


	15. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Is has been a few weeks since I posted I know! The holidays were crazy, my first week back at work was crazy. Starting now we are back to regular Sunday updates. Well I will try my best for Sunday updates, sometimes life has different things in mind.   
> Anyway here is the next chapter. Please let me know what you think I love all kinds of comments! Even the ones about my grammar! Though my Beta reader was not as pleased.   
> Happy Sunday.

Chapter 15 Run   
The afternoon found her back in her room in the infirmary. Legs crossed, she sat in the center of the bed, scanning the room around her. This had been her room since she had gotten here, this was all she knew. Close to the doctor, close to Daryl. By choice she noted, he wasn’t living here before but had moved in because of her.   
Guilt creeped into her veins then, solid and slow. She had changed his entire life; he had molded himself around her and her care. Sighing, she stood to empty the drawers and stack her things on top of the dresser. She would go she decided, it wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal, even though the idea of leaving this room caused her worry. For Daryl, she would move into his new place because he shouldn’t have to live between two places.   
There was a knock on her door when she was almost done gathering the things in the bathroom. Sighing, she set the plastic bag with her stuff on the dresser and went to open it.  
“Hi,” the doctor said as she stepped inside and sat in one of the chairs next to the dresser. “Are you ready?” She questioned, raising her eye brows.   
Heavily, Pandora plopped herself down on the bed. She had been feeling good today, despite not really sleeping. She had left her room, gone all the way to Rick’s and even ate with him, sort of. There was no conversation on her part but he didn’t seem to mind. She had made a big choice to move, to become a bigger part of the community. Despite the low-level thrum of anxiety she was feeling, this was the best she had felt in a long time.   
She would stay busy; she decided being busy didn’t leave her much time to think and if she didn’t think she would be fine.   
“Pandora?”   
Right, Denise was still there waiting to get her therapy started; wanting to dig deep into her trauma and talk about it. The heavy feeling was back again.   
“Are you ready?” Denise asked again, she opened the notebook she had been making notes in. “I wanted to talk about what happened before you came here if you’re feeling up for it.”   
“No.” Her tone was sharper then she had meant, but the idea of talking about the noise in her head was creating more noise in her head. “I don’t want to talk today. It's not helping.”   
Denise only leaned back, arms crossing over her chest. “Why do you think that?”   
Pandora scoffed, tossing a strand of hair from her face with a shaking hand. Anxiety flared up, getting ready to choke off her thoughts. Her skin was tingling like someone was running their hands over her arms. She rubbed her arms hard until the feeling of the phantom touches was replaced by the heat from her own hands.  
“I’m still the same mess I was when I got here. Nightmares every night, can’t hold a fucking conversation.” Every word became angrier, volume increasing as she spoke. Her eyes met Denise’s who sat back, face calm. “Talking isn’t helping.” It wasn’t, not to her at least, not when she went to sleep every night remembering something new.  
“I’m not sure you remember what you were like when you came here.” The other women noted casually.   
Denise was right; she wasn’t sure what she had been like. Even now, no one told her. But the wary glances and tight muscles of some of the people who passed her was hint enough. She had been violent, that much she gathered as she needed drugs to keep her calm and safe.  
Anger boiled inside her now, though, anger that she wasn’t as strong as everyone else. That she couldn’t shove it down and move past it. She knew she wasn’t angry with Denise, none of this was her fault. The anger took on a life of its own, finding new trains of thought to burn through.   
“It doesn’t matter.” She snapped. “I’m done talking. I want to forget.”  
“Forgetting isn’t going to help you heal,” Denise said, leaning forward now. “What you went through was horrible, and if you leave it bottled up it may get worse.”   
Pandora was standing now, hands balled into fists and shaking at her sides. “I don’t care!” She was screaming now. The anger was burning white hot. Anger at her situation, anger at what happened to her. “I don’t want to remember anymore. I do that enough at night. Every time I close my fucking eyes I’m back there. Being raped over and over again, while watching everyone I love die. I’m done.”   
“Pandora. You need to sit and take some deep breaths okay? You need to be calm. We- “   
Whatever Denise said next was lost in the roar of rage in her brain. She had to get out, she had to move. Anywhere was better than here, anywhere Denise wasn’t was perfect. She suddenly couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her and her never ending questions.   
Dimly, she felt Denise reach for her arm. It was then that she realized she was standing at the door. Her body moved of its own accord these days. Shoving the other woman’s hand off her arm, she was flying out the door. Down the steps, outside the house.   
Her lungs burned as she ran, it had been so long since she had pushed herself like this. She could feel the eyes of others on her as she moved down the street, almost hear the whispers as she passed. She imagined what they said, whispering about her weakness or about how dangerous she was.   
She didn’t even know where she was going; she just knew that she needed to move and be out of that fucking room. Whatever rational part of her brain she had left was being over shadowed by anger. The sound of the wheels of the front gate opening caught her attention. Stopping, she turned toward it as someone was coming inside, and Sasha was leaving for tower duty. She was running again, this time for the gate, skirting around Sasha as she tried to reach for her. Then she was outside the walls.  
Someone was screaming her name, Sasha maybe. Or Daryl, maybe Denise had woken him up. That thought only made her run faster.   
She ran until she couldn’t hear them calling her anymore. She ran down the street, around the corner and into a small cluster of homes. She had kept moving until nothing around her reminded her of Alexandria.   
Only when every breath burned her lungs, did she finally stop. Allowing herself a single moment to close her eyes and catch her breath she stood unmoving. When the intake of air no longer set her lung on fire she opened her eyes again, taking a slow calculated inventory of her surroundings. Ahead of her was an apartment building low rise, three floors maybe. The rest of the street was scattered with old cars and garbage. Another apartment building stood to the left of the first, looted homes and shops filling up the rest of the space.   
Everything around her was quiet, almost unsettling so. A few bodies lay around her but she paid them no mind. Turning to look back the way she came, she wiped the sweat soaked hair from her face. All she could see was the homes, the walls of Alexandria were nowhere in sight. Nothing around her reminded her of Alexandria nothing looking like the small cluster of buildings she had seen so many times on the other side of the walls. Hadn’t that been the point, though? To move until there was nothing familiar until nothing reminded her of reliving her trauma.   
It was then her brain finally caught up with her. It’s only answer was a long scream of anger inside her head. What the fuck was she doing. She had run, saw an open gate and ran. Like a child thinking, she would outrun her monsters. Her fingers brushed across the knife at her belt, well at least she had that. Sinking down onto the ground, she let herself process for a moment. She had run, outside the walls where there were people, bad fucking people.   
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She slammed her head down on her knees. She let herself slip into the blind panic for a moment, it would be easier once that was over with. No, something in her brain screamed, sitting in the middle of the street was not the place to freak out.   
Ok, she thought, finally controlling her breathing, focus you can do this. All she had to do was turn around and go back. Right? She couldn’t have run for that long. Could she? The walls were huge, she would get close enough and then see the walls, and it would be fine.   
Finally, she stood, brushing the dirt from the road off her jeans. Her hands had a light tremble, not that it was anything new. A hair tie rested on her wrist so she gathered the heavy strands of her hair and piled them on top of her head. Wouldn’t want it getting in her face, she needed to be able to see.   
“Daryl is going to kill me.” She muttered, starting her walk back home. A groan drifted toward her. Great, of course, the dead would find her. “It’s fine I can do this.” She told herself. Reaching out, she gripped the knife in her hand keeping It out in front of her. It was not the first time she had killed one, it would not be the last. Something in her memory there was the sound of her Fathers voice, his slow patient instruction reminding her to always go for the brain.   
The dead thing came stumbling toward her. Raising its head, it snapped its rotting teeth. It was a grotesque sight, to say the least, the skin of its torso was almost gone and whatever was left held small bits of branches. As she drew closer, her breath stuck inside her chest. On whatever skin was left on its forehead, a W was carved. She knew him, she had seen that face when he was alive.   
Images threatened her, almost spilling over into the present moment. Images of him when he was alive, smiling eyes alight with madness. Gasping, she started to move backwards, hand fluttering to her throat. She almost turned to run, almost, but it would still be coming, it was still coming now.   
The rage she had felt before burned through her again. Blood pounded in her head, rushing forward she plunged the knife into his skull. The body dropped down, hitting the floor with a hard thud. A steel toe boot came down on its head, she stomped and stomped until she saw bits of brain and bone. The anger was gone by then, slipping away once she had turned his head into paste.  
Taking a breath, she wiped her hand across her face. Blood was now mixed with the tears she didn’t know she had been shedding. Her eyes travelled downward, her shirt and jeans were slightly splattered in blood. Her boots were the worst, covered almost completely in blood and brain matter. It didn’t matter, she told herself they were just things. No, they weren’t and she knew that. The good stuff was hard to come by these days. Here she was pounding in a skull for no reason other than her own rage.   
As she cleaned her knife, the tears were coming again. At this point, she wasn’t even sure what she was crying about. Was it how stupid she was being or the shame of what she had done? It could be a many number of things her damaged brain was trying to focus on really, best not to attempt to discover the source of the tears rather let them run their course.   
The breaths that she had been counting and controlling were now coming in short, quick gasps. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, pain shooting outward into her chest. She was having a panic attack. Part of her could recognise that now. Pandora struggled to move again. To her right, there was an empty car. Shaking fingers yanked the handle open and her body tumbled inside, shutting the door.   
Struggling to breathe, she gripped her arms tightly, nails biting into her skin. Rocking back and forth slightly, she rode the wave of panic. It wasn’t until the car door was ripped open that her vision cleared and she sprang back to the world.  
Hands were on her, pulling her out of the car. Screaming and flaying, she pushed backwards, her head connected painfully with the side of the car door. Sparks flashed in her vision, blurring the face of whoever held her.   
“Ah, bitch nuts.” A voice growled. Arms tightened around her. “Come on kid breathe, it’s me, it’s Abraham.”   
Abraham? She thought. The sparks cleared and the world shifted back into focus. He was looking down at her, shock on his face. She tried to breathe deeper, but everything still seemed too much. With every breath, a sob joined it. After a few moments of trying to breathe, she was aware that he was speaking again. Not to her, she noted. She blinked past the tears, they were alone. When her eyes travelled down his arm she saw the walkie.   
Her breathing was easier now Abraham’s presence easing the panic. He would take her back now, he had been outside the walls enough that it would take no time to get back there.   
“You good kid?” he asked, watching her again.  
She nodded slowly, still trembling, she gripped his arm tightly. He started walking slowly now, she tried to follow but everything seemed harder again. Her brain misfired and her legs tangled with each other. She felt herself being lifted, she stiffened against Abraham’s hold on her but didn’t move. She was tired again and walking seemed to take too much energy, thus the discomfort of physical contact took a back seat. The dread of facing Daryl and Denise made her feel even more tired.   
“Ya found her?!” The voice on the walkie was alert but panicked, it made her flinch and bury her head into Abraham’s chest.  
“I got her, heading back now.”   
They walked for some time, only when she saw the new watch tower did she realise she couldn’t go inside, not yet.   
“Abraham,” She whispered. “Can you put me down.”   
He looked down at her then, eyebrows raised. “You gonna run off again?”  
She shook her head as he watched her but decided to put her down gently. Her breath whooshed out of her.   
“I can’t go back yet.” Her voice was hardly above a whisper but he heard it. “I can’t-can’t face him.” She was shaking her head now, hair flying wildly around her.   
He sighed, scratching his beard, “I can’t leave you out here. If you don’t come I gotta take you.”   
Understanding his meaning she nodded, walking to the gate herself. Fine, she would go. Staying out would probably only make him angrier anyway. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped through the now open gate, she could at least come back walking on her own two feet. Her walk back into the infirmary was slow, she tried to think about how she was going to explain this to Daryl.   
As she got closer, a few of the residents of Alexandria gaped at her openly. Right, she was covered in blood. She found herself standing on the stairs looking at the shut door. Her hand found the railing to pull herself upward, when she reached the door she turned to wave at Abraham and mouth thank you.   
The infirmary was mostly silent, Denise seemed to be gone and the only sound she heard was footsteps upstairs. Not normal footsteps, but the sound of someone pacing. When she reached the top of the steps she turned to her room, she knew that was where Daryl was going to be.   
She reached out, turning the handle to open the door. She opened it only a crack to slip in. Her hands stayed on the knob hidden behind her back as she pushed the door shut.   
The moment the door was shut; Daryl whirled on her, face bright red with anger.   
“The hell were you thinking!” He roared, stepping into her personal space. “Ya just run! After everything ya seen outside the walls! Ya, take off! Ya didn’t even have a goddamn gun.”  
Pandora flinched, turning her head to the side to avoid the hot anger of his voice. Her whole body tensed, she tried to push herself further into the door, but he closed the space between them standing impossibly close.   
“What were yah thinking!” He was still dangerously close to her, shouting into the bubble of her personal space.   
She gasped, hand flying out and palms pressing on his chest to try to push him away. “Daryl! Stop!” She shoved at him, fear raced through her tears pooling in her eyes. Images of fingers stroking her chin, hands sliding up her legs played on a loop in her brain.   
As if he could see that, something changed in his face, his hands moved to his chest palms facing outwards as a sign of peace. Pandora sobbed, her hands pressing over her mouth to stop the sound. She was shaking, she had never seen him so angry before.  
“Ahm sorry!” His hands were raised in front of him, stepping backwards to put a few feet between them.  
Shaking her head, she turned away to face the door, her forehead pressing to the wood. Her hands were held into fists at her sides, nails biting into the soft flesh. Silence blanketed the room, neither of them knowing what to say.   
He would never hurt her; she knew that after everything they had been through together. Seeing him like that brought back every memory she had worked so hard to cope with. Without a word, she headed for the bathroom, clicking the lock shut behind her.   
Back pressed against the door, she slid down to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest. She could hear Daryl on the other side of the door as his boots shuffled against the carpet. She could almost picture him pressing his hand to the door. There was the sound of him trying to turn the handle, she had locked it for a reason. He would panic she knew, locking doors was something they agreed she wouldn’t do as it wasn’t safe. The feeling of shutting the door on him felt like she was shutting the door on all the memories that had surfaced.   
A quiet moment was all she needed, just a moment to sort out everything in her brain. Behind her, the knob jiggled again. Once, then twice, before going still. The sound of heavy footsteps started moving away from the door.   
Sighing, Pandora reached down; unlacing the boots she was wearing and pulling them off her feet. The smell was beginning to fill the bathroom. The idea of that smell ruining one of her favourite rooms caused her to stand and begin moving. First, she turned the water on in the tub and made sure it was scolding hot before she took a cloth to the boot to try to get the mess off. It took a while, but finally, they were clean and the only smell was the light scent of the body soap she had used to wash them.   
“Now I smell.” She muttered to herself. Whatever she was wearing went right into the tub which she had again filled with warm water.   
Next, she got into the shower, the warm water running over her felt as close to God as she was ever going to get. It released the tension in her muscles almost instantly. Between the shampoo and conditioner, she wondered if Daryl was still waiting in the room. Part of her wished he was, she was calm enough now that despite his outburst, she wanted to apologise.   
Rinsing her hair one last time, she shut the water off and dried herself off. Only when she was standing naked in the bathroom did she remember all her clothes were outside from when she was packing her things to move. A moment without clothes allowed her to inspect her ever healing body.   
Her fingers traced the pink scar on her right arm; she didn’t even remember how it happened. Higher on her right arm was the bullet wound from their time on the road. Her fingers traced it slightly, it was still tender and scabbed over but healing nicely. Denise did great work she had to admit, all the other scratches and bruising she had gotten in those days were slowly healing. Her skin was littered with small cuts and greenish yellow bruising, but everything seemed to be disappearing slowly.   
Turning away, she wrapped the towel tightly around herself. The lock on the door clicked when she released it. Peeking her head out the door, she scanned the room. Perfect, it was empty. In a dash, she locked the bedroom door, no need to give anyone more of a scare.   
Once dressed, everything felt more normal again, so normal that her stomach decided to remind her that she was hungry. With shaking hands, she pulled her wet hair into a messy bun on the top of her head, the weight of it feeling too much like hands around her neck.   
Like a robot, she delivered instructions to herself. Walk to the door, open it, error, unlock it first, open it, go into the hallway, down the steps, into the kitchen, and open the fridge. When she opened the fridge, she brushed a note on the plate sitting in the fridge.   
‘Pandora- Thought you might be hungry. At Ricks’   
After everything that had happened, his first thought was still to care for her. It brought a sick feeling of guilt to her mouth. She should still be mad at him from before but she didn’t find that anger inside her. The words on the note sank in her gut, the random assortment of nuts, dried fruit and stale chips joined it, sinking like a stone to the bottom of her stomach.


	16. Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday bloody Sunday. Here we are again new chapter at hand! I am going to back catching up with the show soon, if anyone is a little ooc I do apologize no one is perfect.   
> Leave me some love!!

In her room, two ideas battled in her mind: go find Daryl to talk it through or go to bed. Her eyes drifted to the bed as it whispered promises of warmth and sleep. Sleep, that seemed to be all she did these days. She was perpetually tired these days. With the note still in her hand, she opened the top drawer of her night stand slipped it in. A bottle of pills caught her attention, so she reached out for it, turning it over in her hands. 

Sleeping pills, they were the deciding factor. Dreams could not reach her through the haze of a drug-induced sleep. She takes two from the bottle, swallowing them dry. She put the bottle back where she found it, slipping off her pants, only leaving the oversized t-shirt on. 

The covers were soft and cool once she slipped under them. A sigh escaped her; yes this was a better idea, better than facing whatever was waiting for her outside of this room. Blankets pulled up to her chin and legs tucked into her stomach, she let the pills drag her down into sleep. 

Her dreams differed from they had been before. Where there was once terror, there was now a jumble of images from her time in Alexandria. Abraham on the guard tower asking her what she wanted but she didnt understand what he meant. The dream shifted then showing her and Daryl sitting on watch at night. She leaned her head on his shoulder creating a warm feeling in her chest. The images changed, and the wolves were inside the walls killing everyone. She didn’t run though and there was a knife in her hand now. Anyone that came towards her died until the bodies piled up around her like a wall and she stood unmoving covered in warm sticky blood. The dream Pandora laughed, fingers dipping into the gore that remained of her attackers and spreading it over her face. 

Then she was being shaken awake, a faint voice calling to her. 

“Pandora? Pandora?” 

Her eyes were heavy, the fog of the drugs trying to keep her under but she forced them open. In the darkness, Daryl was sitting on her bed. In the faint light she tell his hair mussed from sleep. She wrapped her heavy limbs around his middle; eyes slipping closed again as she let her face rest against him. With her cheek against his side, she whispered the details of her dream. She swore she heard him laugh or as close as he came to laughing.

“Ok, ok back to sleep then.” He tried to untangle himself from her frame but she didn’t allow it. 

“Stay, I’m sorry.” Refusing to let go, she allowed her fingers to wiggle hoping she would catch the blanket. His sigh vibrated through her, his fingers lifted the blanket with ease, slipping inside of it. She was conscious of his warmth against her tension slipping away. It was a tight fit, but as fucked up as it was she needed that closeness. Somewhere in her brain the wrongness of this should register, but her comfort was more important than what is deemed acceptable.

Before she slipped away again, she could feel him throw his arm over her and she pressed herself closer to his warmth before she drifted back to sleep. This time, no dreams found her. 

Sunlight streamed over her, pushing past the cracks of her eye lids. Turning over, she tried to hide her face as her body collided with something solid and warm. A flush crept up her neck and face. That’s right; Daryl was in her bed because she had asked him to stay. The part of her that would have normally cared must still be sleeping because she pressed herself closer, using his chest to hide the sun from her eyes.

“Mornin'” His voice still laced with sleep made her jump. Shifting she threw an arm over her eyes, in an attempt to block out the sun. “Hi.” The word was a jumbled mess. Her mouth felt like she had stuffed it with cotton balls and they had sucked up all the moisture. She was heavy and out of sorts, it would be the last damn time she took those pills.

“Hungry?” Daryl asked, propping himself up on his elbow running his hand over his face.   
She nodded, peering at him from under her arm. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, fingers tangling in the materiel of his shirt. This should be weird, she thought. They were laying in a tiny single bed together after they had fought. But, it wasn’t weird. She must be more fucked up then she thought. 

“Hey,” his tone was sharp. “Ahm sorry, Ah would never hurt you.” 

Pandora only nodded because she knew it was true. Wasn’t it clear she had forgiven him? They were in the same bed for Christ sake. She didn’t want to move right now as everything was fine, more than fine even. When she left this room that when everything would turn to shit. 

“Come on,” Daryl was moving now, getting out of the bed. She reached her hand over the warm space he left behind. Repositioning her arm, she watched him pull on a t-shirt and sweat pants. A flush crept up her neck at the sight of him. More fucked up then I thought the voice in her head scolded her. 

“Ahm make us something.” He was gone then, shutting the door behind him. 

Hands scrubbed over her face. Again, the thought of leaving the sheltered pile of blankets on the bed was not appealing. She stayed where she was for a few long seconds, pulling the blankets over her head. She knew she would have to get up. Either on her own or Daryl would come drag her out of bed. That would be bad seeing as she wasn’t even wearing pants. Mumbling curses, she dragged herself from the bed. Pulling on a pair of leggings, she had grown to hate jeans as there wasn’t enough freedom of movement. Her eyes travelled down to her top, a big old t-shirt. She stripped it off, it caught a little on the wrapping still on her wrist but she paid it no mind. With a sports bra on, she tossed on a tank top and t-shirt over it with a light sweater, the end of the world was all about layering.

When she eventually stepped out into the hallway, other voices drifted up to her. Shutting her eyes, she listened. She could pick out Michonne, Rick and Daryl’s rasp was the last thing she heard. It took several deep breaths before she could command her legs to walk down the steps.   
Once she was standing in the kitchen, Michonne was handing her a steaming bowl of oatmeal with pears sitting on top. The other woman didn’t speak, only nodded at Pandora in passing before moving down the hall to the room where the rest of the voices were coming from. 

She could just take this bowl and go back to her room. That would be the best idea, all that human interaction didn’t seem like something she felt like doing besides there was the fact she was just terrible at it. In her hands her breakfast was cooling. With a sigh, she headed towards the room in the back. 

Inside the barely lit bedroom, she stood at the door. The conversation died away and everyone turned to look at her. Her trembling hands tightened around the bowl, trying to stop her shaking. Daryl was beside her then, his hand on her lower back guiding her to the only empty chair in the room. She guessed that was where he had been sitting. Around her the conversation picked up again, with a spoon of oatmeal in her mouth she allowed her eyes the time to wander. 

Carl was supported by a throne of pillows, his lower body covered by thick blankets. His eyes held a bright vacancy, she had come to in her own gaze from time to time. Rick was sitting at his son’s side, eating and talking in a low tone. Michonne sat in the corner of the room feeding a babbling Judith on her knee. Before she had come here, she was sure she would never see a baby again well, not a baby alive at least. But here was Judith, a bright and happy baby girl, a reminder of everything they fought for and the promise of what could happen behind these walls. 

“You’re eating remember?” Daryl’s voice close in her ear, she flinched slightly but nodded. Glancing up at him, she took another spoonful and ate it, he held her gaze for a few moments. She discerned what he was asking before he even said anything, she held up two fingers. She felt fine; the everyday low level anxiety was there, but it always was. Being in a room with all these people made it seem louder, but she needed to do this for her own sake. 

The bowl in her hands was empty before she even realized it. Daryl was taking if from her, placing it on the little table beside Carl’s bed. Something about that didn’t seem to sit right with her, to leave that dirty bowl in someone else’s space. Sometimes her mind went to places, and she was not sure how it got there, but right now it felt that her dirty bowl was invading his space. 

Standing, she tucked her hair behind her ear and drifted around the room, collecting the dirty dishes. The image of her coming out of the bathroom after a panic attack to a clean room burned in her brain, seeing the organization in the room had helped calm the chaos raging inside her. She would do the same for him. When she reached around Rick to take his bowl he stopped talking and their eyes locked, he only nodded. 

Preserving it as a good sign she left the room, put everything in the sink and washed it.   
“Why are you doing that?” Michonne asked as she entered the kitchen, Judith bouncing in her arms smiling away. Pandora looked up only for a quick moment before she was glancing back down, her hair coming out from behind her ears to hide her eyes. 

“Sometimes when things are organized, it helps me stay calm. I wanted to do the same for Carl.” She wasn’t sure any of that made sense to anyone but her. Watching the suds rinse off the bowl in her hand she almost forgot that there was another person in the room. When she looked up, Michonne was still there, holding the now silent Judith in her arms.

“Thank you.” Michonne said before she turned away taking Judith outside.   
Pandora titled her head to the side slightly to watch her go. Thank you, hm. It was a phrase she hadn’t heard in a long time. The cool feeling on her fingers reminded her that the water was still on. Reaching out turning the tap off, but nothing happened. Still she stood, waiting, waiting for what? She didn’t even know. Head turned to the side, her eyes drifted to the pile of now clean dishes resting on the towel beside the sink. She should put them away she thought if she had any idea where everything went. 

“Pandora?” She turned, eyes focusing again. 

“Sorry,” She whispered. “I was cleaning the dishes.” 

Daryl had an odd expression on his face she couldn’t quite place in a category of emotions. He was standing in front of her, arms crossed over his chest peering at her. 

“Are we leaving?” We, she couldn’t help but notice she was not sure where he ended and she began. 

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, raising his eyebrow at her. 

For a moment she was not sure what to say, did she want to leave? What did she want? Was she even in a place to decide what she really wanted? The questions overwhelmed her but the feeling of Daryl’s hand on her arm forced her to stop. 

“I want to stay.” She answered. Eyes pulling up to meet his gaze again, she wanted to stay to feel like she was a part of something and not just someone passes through

He nodded, taking her elbow and leading her back into the room. She settled back into the chair she had left a few moments ago. Daryl stood behind her, leaning on the back of the chair. 

Rick eyes them, holding her gaze for a few long heart beats before turning his eyes on Daryl.   
“We should go out soon, look for supplies and for people.” 

Under her the chair groaned as Daryl shifts his weight. She didn’t turn to look at him, eyes fixed on Carl. The boy in the bed blinked, he still had the same faraway stare she had seen in her own eyes too many times in the mirror. She reached for him laying her hand on top of his own. Turning he looked at her, in his gaze he seemed more present. She tried to smile, tried to speak the message that whatever was going on inside his head was all right.

Maybe some of her silent words reached him because he smiled at her and tightened his grip around her fingers. Then he started to blink eyes looking heavy, his head slip to the side. Standing, she cupped the side of his head his touch light as she laid him down against the pillows. He opened his eyes again slowly the moment she lay his head down, but she only pressed her fingers to her lips, the other hand pulling the blankets over him. 

Around her, she hadn’t noticed that both Rick and Daryl were studying her. A hot flush swept up her neck and cheeks and she opened her mouth in an attempt to form words but in that moment her ability to speak seemed to escape her. Rick raised his hand to silence her, putting an end to her struggle. 

“It’s ok, thank you.” Rick was whispering now, fearing to wake his sleeping son.

There was something in the expression on his face, something almost broken. Pandora had to turn away, unable to process that with the man she knew Rick was. Behind her, she felt Daryl shift. Head backward to look at him, their eyes locked and he nodded. 

She stepped out of the room with Daryl at her heels. Once in the small hallway, she closed the door softly behind her. Shifting to the side, she found Daryl standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. She was turning now, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Before everything…” She waved her hand in the air letting the rest of the sentence fall away. “I was packing my stuff to move into your new place. If you still want me to. If not, that’s fine too. I could ask someone else” she was babbling, words slipping out of her mouth quicker than she could catch them. 

When she looked up at him, the edge of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. That was a smile, she was almost sure of it, but it was hard to tell with him. The master of the scowl. 

“Com’on then before tower duty.” He was moving up the steps ahead of her now, not turning to see if she was coming. 

She was coming; it was her idea after all. The moment she was in the room and she saw him place her neatly folded pile of clothes into laundry baskets doubt curled inside of her stomach. This room had been the only place she had felt safe for a long time.

Her fingers curled against the door handle as she closed it behind her. The steady thrum of panic she usually felt rose like a wave to greet her. 

‘It’s not like your leaving the walls.’ She told herself. Nodding to herself, she counted each breath as she moved around the room to help Daryl with her things. 

“Pandora?” The sound of her of name and the concern on the edge of Daryl’s voice made her jump, the bottle of lotion she was holding went tumbling to the floor. 

When she turned, Daryl was looking at her with the bottle already in his hand. Sometimes that happened, sometimes her body moved too slow and the surrounding time moved too quick, she missed things. 

“You don’t have to do this.” Daryl muttered caution in her tone. There he was again, all-knowing, somehow always knowing what was going on in her head. 

“No,” She said with a sharp shake of her head, “I want to do this. I’m tired of feeling like a patient or a visitor, I want—” The words died on her lips because she wasn’t really sure what she wanted or didn’t know how to explain it to him. Part of her was terrified of leaving this room yet part of her was ready. She needed to return to some kind of normal. 

“Ya want a place, a place that is just yours.” 

Pandora nodded, feeling the tears pooling in her vision. What was she even crying about? Angry with herself, she rubbed at her eyes, “Come on, I want to see my room.” 

Daryl chuckled at that, putting adding the lotion to all her other bathroom stuff. “I ain’t done shit to the place. Just moved in”

Throwing the last of her clothes from the dresser into the basket before lifting it she said “Well then Mr. Dixon, I guess we are going to have to decorate.”


	17. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am day late this week. *gasp* I also didn't post last week sorry! I hope you guys watched last nights episode! It was so good! Well here is my next chapter, enjoy!

Chapter 17

“Before you came here where were you?” Denise leaned back in her chair, pen posed for notes.

Pandora sat on the sofa across from her with her legs crossed and the heavy knitted blanket over her shoulders. The pressure around her shoulders and back felt like a hug. It kept her focused and reminded her where she was as they talked. Daryl slipped it over her when he left for a run with Rick, telling her he would be back. 

“Before it all happened, my family was in our RV. We drove from California to Washington so I could compete in a competition there.” She remembered the hushed whispers of conversation between everyone in the arena. People were whispering of a sickness, people dying and hospitals closing. “When the final day of competing ended we all sat in the RV and my parents talked about what to do. My Dad used to be in the army, he had contacts that were still active. They told him to stay away from populated areas.” 

She licked her lips, trying to follow the train of thought without getting pulled under by the memories. When her gaze flicked up to Denise, she could see the woman about to open her mouth. Beating her to the punch, Pandora held up three fingers.  The last few days had been alright, good even. After her outburst, it had been hard for Daryl and Abraham to let her out of their sight. After a few days of proving she was of sound mind and body, and extra therapy at Daryl’s request, she had been allowed more time to herself. 

Aaron came through on his promise to come and visit her, bringing food and some new books. They spent the time on the front porch of her townhouse as he had complained about wasting the day inside but she guessed he had other reasons.  Getting out of the house was still a challenge. She mostly went out in the early morning and evening, when she had the street mostly to herself. 

“Pandora?” Denise’s voice brought her back into the room. Pandora tightened the blanket around her, balling it up so more of it was resting on her shoulders, causing a heavier pressure. 

"My family had a cottage near Bombay Hook, the Wildlife Refuge. We went to the store to pick up things we thought we would need and headed towards the cottage. We- uh- we didn’t make it.” 

She pictured the sight of the blocked roads and military personal redirecting them, it was so clear that she was almost sure she was there. A shrug of her shoulders allowed her to feel the pressure, reminding her of where she was. It was an anchor pulling her down to the present, keeping her from drifting away as she often did. 

“The army redirected us to an apartment building that they were holding but once we got there they never came back. We stayed there for a long time, a month maybe? It’s hard to remember. One day, a whole herd of the dead came through. They took out the fences and the windows on the lower levels. We ran. My Dad he…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “We were all my Dad ever had, my Mom, my sister and I. He made sure we got out; everyone else was by themselves. Some of them found us after since we set a meeting place if that ever happened to the apartment building. We were on the road for a while.” 

The sentence died off there, falling away as the memory played in her mind like a movie. The road had been the hardest, never feeling safe, no idea of where they were going. They had learned the heard lessons then on the road. They learned that people were the enemy now too. She killed her first man on the road, he tried to steal from them. It had cemented the us vs them her Father had been trying to teach them. It's you first, it's always you first. 

“Did you stay on the road for long?” Denise was there again. Right, she was here in the room, not out there. Not with her Dad pointing a gun at the dead coming towards her, trying to get them in the head. 

“Um,” Pandora struggled to find the word, struggled to keep her calm. Her hands coil into fists before she has time to stop them. Her nails bite into the soft skin of her palms; the pain is sharp and draws her attention back into the room. What did Denise just ask? Her mind was fighting against her, becoming slow again and struggling to keep up with the world around her. 

“What number are you on?” 

That reaches her somehow, that question always finds its way through her brain fog. It's painful to uncurl her hands but she can hold up four. She is not sure what is triggering her this time, maybe it was the thought of being on the road or the movie playing in her brain that wouldn't shut off. Air tightens in her lungs and her fingers are flying up to her chest as if it would help her breathe better. There is no room around her anymore, she isn’t here she isn't anywhere.

“Pandora, take a deep breath and listen to my voice.”   
The doctor's voice brings her face back into focus.

“Start at your toes.” 

That’s right, her toes. With her eyes shut, she tries to block out the images of the road. Her toes curl in her socks once she tightens the muscles and relaxes them a few times. She continued the process up her body. By the time she had gone through her whole body she felt the calm settling over her, her breathing coming slower and more controlled. 

When she opened her eyes again Denise was sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. The smile on her face filled Pandora’s chest with warmth. 

“I did it.” Pandora said. Denise was nodding with the smile still in her lips. 

“Do you know what triggered it?” Denise asked. Now that her mind was clear of the panic again, she could go back and look at the moments before. 

“The road, that feeling of not being safe or having anywhere to go.” Even speaking the words out loud now she could taste the slight tinge of panic.

“But you know you have a place now, and you’re safe, right?” Denise started writing in the notebook again. The rest of the session moved along without the appearance of another panic attack, to which she was grateful. The session lasted only a little longer after that. She made it to the part in her story before the wolves took her. She couldn’t go past that, not today, she was too tired now.   
When it was over, she found herself sitting in the guard tower at the gate. She sat facing the road. Rosita was on duty, not that it mattered since she would have been up here no matter who was keeping watch. Pandora didn’t speak, eyes fixed on the furthest point she could see. 

“They will be back before dark, that’s what he said right?” 

“Ya” The word came out sharper then she intended it to. With her eyes shut, she counted down from ten before she opened them again. “Sorry.” The runs always made her nervous, she knew what the world was like on the other side of the wall, and it was not pretty.  
“Rosita?” A longer silence filled the space between them then. It had given her mind a chance to work through the tangled cluster of thoughts. Somewhere in that tangle of information, she found the question she wanted to ask the other woman. “Will you teach me how to fight?"

The only sound she heard was Rosita sputtering and coughing, something that sounded almost like a laugh.

“Fuck no.”

“What?” Her tone was sharp again because the rejection stung. She had thought this would be a great idea; both Daryl and Abraham would be more comfortable if they knew she was learning to take of herself. Wasn’t that what they were always worried about, making sure she was safe? This way she could keep herself safe instead. 

“No way am I doing something like that before I ask Daryl.”  

A soft sigh escaped Pandora’s lips as she rolled her head in a circle, the joints of her neck cracked. She felt like the child of overbearing parents. Yes, her decision-making skills have not exactly been up to par for the last little while, but she had gone above and beyond since then to prove herself. She had worked twice as hard to bounce back from her misadventures on the other side of the walls.  

“Just let him know, we can start tomorrow morning.” Rosita said suddenly.

A wide grin broke over Pandora’s face as she leant her head backwards to grin at the other woman upside down. Rosita was smiling too, a small one, hidden inside one of her trademark scowls. 

More time passed between them in silence as around them the darkness grew and settled over the homes. Still, Pandora watched and watched. He was coming back, that she knew for sure. It was just a matter of when he was coming back. She would be here, she would wait, then the moment she saw the car she would open the gates. Thinking about the gates made her think about being outside of them.  
Tomorrow part of her therapy would be to walk ten steps outside of the gate. She had to prove she could do it, to face her fear as Denise put it. That would be better once she knew how to protect herself. She decided once Rosita taught her, she wouldn’t be frightened to go outside anymore.

  “Pandora?” The tone is Rosita’s voice was something she had become used to hearing. It was the tone everyone seemed to use if they had to say her name more than once. To be fair, if they didn’t touch her before speaking to her, she was bound not to hear them. 

“Sorry?” The word was said as a question even though she was sure Rosita already knew Pandora hadn’t heard a word of what the other woman said. 

“I said my shift is over, do you want me to take you home?” 

Home. The word knocked around in her brain. Home was something she had here now. Home was a townhouse at the end of the row, with a big worn out sofa in the living room, and a room that was just her own. It was too quiet there when she was alone. 

“No, I want to wait.”

The other woman's sigh seemed to be all around her in the night, but she didn’t argue. Pandora was about to say something, her slow moving brain was trying to put together a sentence. Then something flickered down the road, she was standing now with Rosita somewhere behind her. She said something Pandora didn’t quite catch, it didn’t matter though as her hands were gripping the railing, and she was hoisting herself up on it. Then she was walking on top of the wall, she could see the car heading towards them.

“It’s them.” A breath she didn’t know she was holding rushed out of her along with those words. Not even checking to see if Rosita had heard her, Pandora was scaling down the metal frame of the wall. She stepped in front of whoever was on gate duty and opened the gate to let them in. 

The car crept past her, both windows down. Daryl was leaning out the passenger side, he only nodded at her. She nodded back, not a word was needed between them most of the time. With the gate shut, she followed the car to the storage house. Once they were both outside, she found herself beside them taking boxes of goods inside to be sorted in the morning. 

With the car empty, Rick turned ready to head back home. He walked past them with a gruff “Night” directed to them both and a light touch on Pandora’s shoulder. 

She didn’t flinch and schooled her expression to one of blankness. It was another part of her therapy, accepting touch. Well, touch from anyone who wasn’t in her inner circle. That meant people she hardly knew around town had been placing light touches on her for the last few days. The touch that landed on her shoulder now was one she was all too comfortable with.

Daryl stood behind her, arms covered in dirt, hair plastered to his face with sweat. He began easing her forward towards their shared house.

“What’s that?” She asked pointing to the black bag on his back. 

At first he made some noncommittal noise and shrugged, then he muttered “Stuff.” 

“Never would have guessed,” She shot back, turning the handle to head inside. “You better get in that shower Dixon, you look gross.”

“Yes ma’am.” Was the reply that drifted down over the sound of his heavy boots heading up the stairs.

In the living room the sofa called her name. It whispered the promise of soft cushions and warm, oversized blankets. Her feet found themselves moving there. The heavy knit blanket was there, draped over the sofa. Had she left it behind? That seemed troubling to her, she couldn’t remember what had happened between therapy and waiting at the tower. There was an entire day between those two events but her mind was empty. A chunk of missing time was something that would usually send her spiralling down into a panic, so she shut it away. 

She used the technique Denise had taught her. She imagined worrying about lost time as a scene in the movie which she paused before locking away it away. She eased down on the sofa and brought the blanket back over her shoulders, the heavy weight on her frame allowed the tension to release. She eased back and sunk into the cushions, letting her eyes fall closed.  Before she knew it Daryl was beside her, pushing a bowl of steaming soup into her hands. 

“Ahm guessing you ain't been eating.” He commented, spooning soup into his mouth. 

“Not true,” She answered, taking a spoonful. “I had breakfast with Denise before therapy.” Her tone was smug and without thinking, she turned to the side and stuck her tongue out at him. Something flickered in his face, an emotion she wasn’t quite able to catch before it disappeared, but the edge of his lip turned up in a very Daryl Dixon smile. Or what you could call a smile when talking about Daryl.

Silence settled over them while they ate and when she was finished she collected both of their dishes to put them in the sink. When she turned to get the pot from the stove, Daryl was already handing it to her. 

She sighed, “I’m in the house, what could happen?” Some days the hovering was stifling, like the air on a hot summer day pressing down around her. Sometimes she loved him for it, loved the constant presence and the calm he seemed to bring to her usual chaos. On a good day like today though, she felt like she was being smothered. He didn’t answer her though, only turned and headed back towards the living room. 

When she finished, she headed out to join him, not quite ready to be alone just yet. She found him sitting on the sofa, legs outstretched on the table in front of him, an open book in his hands. Settling down beside him, she pulled the heavy knitted blanket over her legs and closed the gap until she was pressed against his side. He stiffened, but only a fraction. Trying to hide it, he shut the book, leaning over to pull the bag he had before off the floor. 

“Here, got ya some stuff while we were out there.” 

He placed the bag in her lap, watching her from the corner of his eye. 

A grin spread over her face, her fingers couldn’t seem to move fast enough as she pulled the zipper open. Inside was an assortment of random objects. The first thing her fingers found must be one of the biggest. She pulled out a heavy book of poetry, recent works or as recent as things get these days. In her chest, something is tight, her heart maybe? Her Dad used to read poems to her growing up; for a jarhead, he had the soul of an artist. Setting the book in her lap, her fingers ran over the cover letting her mind read the words a few times before moving to pull the next thing from the bag. Another book, despite the title she finds a small laugh bubbling up from her chest. In her hands, she is holding “The Rape Recovery Handbook.” She wasn't upset or offended, in fact, she is feeling quite proud. If Daryl didn’t think she was getting stronger every day, he would not have risked a book like this. Her fingers brushed the cover of this book too; “Rape Recovery” was what she was going through right now. 

Her body pressed tighter against him now, the warm feeling blooming inside her chest. “Thank you.” The words were hardly above a whisper, but she knows he can hear her. 

“There's more,” Daryl is reaching over her now, his hand disappearing inside the black bag. When he pulls it out, he is holding a gold chain securely in his palm. 

“It made me think of your gold medal.”

Her fingers brushed the metal in his hand for a moment and they lingered there, enjoying the warmth of his skin. Then, with slow moving fingers she lifted the necklace from his hand, it was still warm. It reminded her of the gold medal too, lighter, but the way the dim light bounced off it, made her picture her old medal. She could feel the way that it hung heavy on her chest, thick ribbon band around her neck. Unclipping the clasp at the back, she handed it to Daryl without a word. He moved to drop it over her head, closing the clasp. 

The metal felt cool against her skin as the heat it had absorbed from Daryl’s hand had all seeped out. When she moved to touch where it hung on her neck her fingers came away damp. It was then she realised that she was crying. How long she had been crying, she was not sure, but then she felt a heavy warm hand on her shoulder. Her gaze drifted up slowly to meet the eyes of Daryl looking down at her, letting her breath out, she sagged against him. The tears had stopped now so they both lay tucked into each other on the small sofa. 

“Thank you,” She whispered, face hidden against his shoulder.

She was answered with a hum that vibrated in her chest. 

“Thank you for everything, for now and from before.” He only hummed again and stood up; he held a hand out to pull her up as well, “Come’on now.” He whispered, bringing her up the steps and into the hall. For a heartbeat, Daryl stood in the hall, half torn between his room and her room. Deciding on her room, he turned to pull her inside.  

Pandora sighed, running her hands over her face as she moved towards the bed. He was right behind her, doing what? She wasn't sure as she didn’t want to turn to look. Peeling off the layers of clothes, she changed into loose fitting shorts and a tank top. There was no shame in changing in front of him; he had seen her naked more times than she even knew.   
   
When she turned around, Daryl had already pulled the blankets off the bed so she could slip inside. The sheets were cool against her skin, refreshing even. He sat beside her over the blankets, back resting on the head board and arms folded over his chest.

"How was your run?" She asked, turning to face him with one arm tucked under her pillow. 

He began to tell her how the day had panned out, what they had found and what they hadn't. Somewhere in his retelling of the day’s events, she found herself drifting off into sleep.  


	18. Stronger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay here I am again with a new chapter! I'm really loving writing this. Recovery is never a straight an narrow path that's important to understand with Pandora's story. As always please let me know what you think!

Pre-dawn light found Pandora on the front porch with one of Daryl’s cigarettes between her lips. Her brain decided that she ought to be up before the sun had risen. She tried to count how many hours she'd slept. The small number pissed her off too much though, so she stopped, resigning herself to the fact she may need to nap later. It wasn’t like she needed to do anything around here. The sun peaked over the sky and the darkness became less and less. The surrounding stillness was making her nervous, the quick drumming of her fingers against her leg seemed out of place. Turning, she moved to make her way to a tower that had the best view of the sunrise. This wasn’t the first time she was awake before the sun. What was the point of being awake at this horrible hour if she didn’t take the time to enjoy the sunrise? The cigarette was already finished when she made it to the wall. Not bothering with the guard tower itself, she climbed the wall. Muscles in her arms and legs screamed in protest as she climbed, but it pumped adrenaline through her and that made it worthwhile. Once at the top, she balanced on the small beam that was there. She stood there observing the brightness of the morning sun filling the sky. 

“New day,” she thought to herself. “It will be a good fucking day.” Positive affirmations were the key to happiness, or so her therapist told her daily. It had been hard at first to talk to Denise again once she had found out what had happened. Denise had tried to help one of the hurt wolves who came to take this place, Morgan had asked her to help him. Carol had found him, they fought, he escaped with Denise as a hostage, in the end Carol had killed him. There was a part of her that had been trying to get the other women alone trying to say thank you where no one else would overhear, but there was always something. At first when Daryl told her then had been nothing but white hot anger. But Denise was a doctor not just her doctor but a doctor for everyone, they took an oath to protect all life. Denise hadn’t known either, how could she knew who that man was. She never talked about their faces, no one would know he had been the one to take her that day the one who had started everything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” a voice from the ground asked her. With a fleeting look behind her, she spotted Abraham on the ground with a cigar in his mouth and rifle slung over his shoulder. 

“Sleep is for the mentally stable.” Pandora shot back, moving to lower herself to the ground. When there was two feet between her the ground, she jumped. She touched down on the ground with her feet together and arms out to the side, her body a flawless straight line. A grin found its way to her lips, “I still got it.”   
He only scoffed and rolled his eyes. He was one of the few people who appreciated that she could joke about how fucked up she was. Humor helped her deal, can't cry every day. 

“Come on kid, let me walk you home.” 

He was already moving though, just expecting her to follow. Which she did, but that was not the point. 

“I asked Rosita to teach me how to protect myself.” She blurted as they walked. 

“Thought you could shoot?” 

“I can, but who would give me a gun?” Someone waved at them as they passed so Abraham returned the gesture. “I need hand to hand training.” 

“Not a bad idea kid.” 

“I have those sometimes.” 

He snorted a laugh and patted her on the back. “See you later, kid.”

Right, she blinked, this was her front door. With a slight wiggle of her fingers, she turned to head up the steps. 

Daryl was already moving around in the kitchen completely dressed when she stepped inside, door clicking shut behind her. He turned around with two steaming bowls of oatmeal in his hands, the top held this sprinkled trail mix. Gliding towards him, she took the bowl he offered. It was tasty despite being mildly stale. 

“Sleep?” Daryl questioned, spoon dipping back into the bowl. 

Pandora only shrugged, “Enough I guess.” She answered, shoving more food into her mouth. She wanted to spill out everything, tell him right there and then that she would learn to fight wither he wanted her to or not. Something about the way he was looking at her, however, made her insides tight. 

“I talked to Rosita today,” She said, lips curling around the spoon to lick it clean. “I asked her to teach me how to protect myself.” 

“Ya sure about that?” he questioned, eyeing her cooly. 

“I need to know how to protect myself, it will help.” Help with not feeling so helpless, so weak. That part would be left unsaid.

“Yah asking me?” He raised an eyebrow at her, half of his lip turned up modestly in a kind of smile.

“Maybe.” She mumbled, taking the now empty bowl from him and putting it in the sink. 

Turning the water on, the warmth of it seeping into her bones. She was always cold these days, a deep chill in her bones to keep her company. 

“Sure. If it’ll help, anything.” Inside her chest her heart did a thing, tripping and jumping all over itself. 

Moving away from the sink, she dried her hands and towards him casually. Arms snaked around his middle and against her he stiffened, but didn’t move. She didn’t give in though, she knew in a moment she would feel him loosen against her. Ah, there.

“Thank you.” His silence stretched over them, filling the small kitchen. 

When she stepped back he appeared taken aback, face knotted in confusion. She started to put more distance between them because he was moving towards the door. 

“ Heading out with Rick again,” He's not looking at her though, he is pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder and running his fingers through his hair. “Be back later tonight. Wait up?” 

She is standing wordlessly, arms folding over her abruptly cold mid-section. There is a catch in his voice at the end as if he is not sure if she would, in fact, wait up. “Sure.” 

Then he's gone, and she's left standing in the now silent house. The silence that hung around the surrounding space clawed at her skin, she moved again. Out of the house, down the steps. To her left, Daryl stood with Denise beside the car they were taking, a paper passed between their hands. Pandora turned away, leaving him to go as there was no need to say goodbye again. Goodbyes made her kind of sick these days, anyway. 

She had eyes only for Rosita, it was time to get started. Pandora stood on the front porch of the house research shared with Abraham and Eugine. What was the polite thing to do? She stopped, fingers drumming on her chin. Right, knock. Someone may be sleeping, Abraham may be sleeping. He did just work, didn’t he? She had just seen him, that was today, wasn’t it? She was fuzzy again, but she knocked almost silently. A voice called out to her from inside telling her to come in. She did then, turning the handle and shutting the door behind her with a click. 

Rosita stood in the kitchen at the frying pan. 

“Eggs?” She asked, looking over her shoulder. Pandora sniffed the air and drifted towards the other woman at the stove. 

“Please.” She whispered gathering a plate from the cupboard. She had just eaten a moment ago, but who would be capable of turning down eggs? It took a few tries to find the right drawer, but she did and took out enough for everyone. She heard movement upstairs, two sets of foot steps. 

“Didn’t I already take you home?” Abraham slid onto the stool at the island, Pandora sliding down next to him. 

“Ya but I wandered off, that happens sometimes.” Pandora only shrugged, Rosita slid some of the eggs on her plate before serving Abraham. She watched as Rosita made up the rest of her plate, with some beans and hash.

Rosita made up her own plate and took her position, standing on the other side of the island leaning on her elbows as she ate.   
“Eat it all up kids, eggs are scarce these days.” 

The comment was double edged. Sure the eggs were scarce, but Pandora also had a habit of drifting away for an entire day and not eating. Her eyes wandered back down to the plate in front of her, her serving was small, for that she was grateful. Minutes passed in silence as they ate together but eventually she broke it, “I talked to Daryl this morning he is ok with you teaching me.” 

Rosita smiled at her from across the island, a dark glint in her eyes, “Well, then we start as soon as you're finished.” 

“Im gonna hit the hay, you ladies have fun.” 

As he left, Eugine was stepping into the kitchen taking the now empty plates and washing them without asking. Finishing her last few bites off her plate, she placed it on the dirty pile, “Thank you.” 

“Not a problem. I overheard that your training starts today, good luck.” 

She would need all the luck she could get. 

The found a sunny spot of grass just behind the soar panels, away from the busy day-to-day activities of Alexandria. This way no one could see them. While Pandora didn’t think it mattered right now when Rosita kicked her ass she might be more grateful for it. 

They sparred until the sun was hanging high in the sky and they both lay in the grass covered in sweat and panting. Pandora was consumed by the sort of tired she hadn't felt since her misadventures on the other side of the wall. It was a good tired, however, the kind of tired that proved that you did work. Muscles that went unused for years screamed at her in protest to being treated so violently, she ignored them, instead basking in the speed of her racing heart. There were a few hiccups sure, like when Rosita managed to get her on her back and hold her down. When they stopped, she had time to chase away the panic attack that threatened to ruin their day. Rosita never stopped the lesson though, she let herself calm down and then they were right back at it. No one else will stop attacking you because you're having a panic attack! The phrase had been repeated a few times throughout their session. 

“You didn’t do half bad,” Rosita commented, turning her head to glance at her. The other woman's eyes were hidden by sweat covered strands of hair. 

“I was a gymnast before, went to the Olympics and everything. I guess some things never leave you.” She stretched her arms out in front of her and savoured the tightness. “Tomorrow?” 

Rosita only flashed her a grin, wide and full of teeth. Pandora laughed. 

“Ask me that again when you get up in the morning.” Rosita was already standing though, stretching out her limbs and brushing the dirt from her pants. “Im gonna head home, you ok?” 

“Ya,” Pandora muttered, tilting her chin up to get more sun. “I think I’ll stay here for a while.” 

The other woman was gone then, the sound of her steps fading away. She ran through the day's lesson in her head, trying to commit every small bit of detail to memory. She would do more of these lessons every day until no one could lay an unwanted hand on her again. Drifting around her were the sounds of Alexandria: people walking, talking, doors opening and closing. 

She closed her eyes letting the tension burn away by the light of the sun. She must have fallen asleep in that time because there was a hand on her shoulder and she was screaming. 

“Pandora! Pandora! It’s ok, it’s just me! It’s Denise.” 

It was just Denise she realized when she calmed down enough to look.

“Fuck. Mentally unstable, remember?” Shaking hands pulled the hair from her face while she sat up. Everything ached, even her fingers. How her fingers ached she would not ask. 

“Did you forget?” Denise asked sitting beside her now, legs crossed. 

“Forget?” Confusion burned in her brain. 

“About your session today?” Denise asked. 

Right, therapy every day, the new deal she agreed to since she had gone beyond the walls a while back. 

“Can we skip today Doc?” The was a hopefulness in her question, but the moment she glanced at Denise’s face the answer was clear.

“Listen,” The woman's features softened a fraction. “You do the exercise we planned, ten steps outside the gate and then we're finished.”   
Alright ten steps outside, no problem. She had been out there before, twice in fact. She was standing now, fear coiling in her gut, but she pushed it down.   
They walked together in silence, she hadn't even noticed she had reached the gate until she walked right into it. Denise was beside her then, turning to Spencer at the guard tower. Dimly, Pandora could hear her explaining what they were doing there, working through her fear, blah blah blah. She wasn’t sure this would help, but it got Daryl off her back, got Abraham off her back and would get her the rest of the day off. 

Holly was standing beside her now, pushing the gate open, “Ill be right here ok? Holding it open for you.”

Pandora only managed a weak smile before she moved. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. At ten she stopped to force her eyes to focus and drink in every detail she could. If anything happened again, she would recognize how to get back here, she would remember what everything looked like down to the last tree. When she thought the image was painted in her head she turned back, letting her feet carry her back behind the shield of the walls. 

Denise was there now, hands on her shoulder pulling her into a quick, tight hug, she didn’t even have time to panic as it was over so quickly.   
“You did great! Come on let’s eat something.” Denise was leading her back now to the medical house she shared with Tara next to the medical building.   
She didn’t even have to ask as she realized where they were heading. Best to keep an eye on her anyway, she thought. When she was alone for too long she did things, stupid things like lay in the sun for hours and forget to eat. 

“Have a shower then come down for dinner.” 

Pandora blinked, shit, they had already gone inside as she was being pushed towards the steps. 

The rest of the evening was nice. Tara had gotten Pandora knit blanket from her house and wrapped it around her as they sat in the living room. Being friends with your Doctor had its perks, Denise and Tara knew exactly how to handle her. And by handling her, Pandora could sit in the corner, knees to her chest, drifting in and out of a conversation she was never actually a part of. 

When the sun eventually set, an itch settled into her bones, she was normally watching for him by now. Perched on the watchtower with whoever else was there, waiting for the headlights on the darkened road.

“Pandora?” God damn it, she hated that tone.

But she smiled and mumbled a sorry under her breath, eyes on Tara.

Tara only smiled though handing her an extra blanket and nodding. “Probably a good time to head out there, anyway.” 

Pandora smiled, uncurling herself from the sofa and moving toward the door. “Thank you for everything, good night.” 

The walk to the guard tower was quick, it became colder without the heat from the sun but nothing too unbearable. The platform was clear, whoever should have been up here was not. Leaning over the railing, she spotted someone down by the gate. When the guy turned to look up at her, she only waved. She received a nod in return, words and strangers didn’t mix. 

Her normal place when she was here was right at the front, leaning against the front railing where she was able see clearly. It was dark, but the passage of time was something that was still a struggle for her.

So when the headlights appeared in the distance there was no way to be sure how long she had been watching for. The pain that Rosita promised crept up on her while she stood unmoving. The trip down the ladder was not as easy as it was the night before. By the time she made it to where they left the car, it was empty. 

Arms wrapped tightly around her middle, she followed the sounds. She found Daryl and Rick at Denise's door, a limp body held between them.   
“Daryl?” 

His head snapped back eyes meeting hers, “Don’t move.” 

Although her blood boiled at the command, she did as she was told and didn’t move from her spot outside the medical building. Panic rushed through her, they found a man. What kind of man, they can't just bring people from outside. This was her home, their home, you can't just come in here.   
A pounding started to appear behind her eyes, a tightness coiling inside her gut. A deep panic that seems to root itself in her bones. She would follow she decided, whatever they knew she would know too. She wouldn’t allow herself to be in the dark. 

When Daryl and Rick came back out she was trailing behind them. Daryl meets her eyes, her gaze cool, daring him to question her presence. He dosesn't though, only keeps hauling the unconscious man towards the basement cell. When they get to the door, Rick gives her a pointed glance, and she stays put again panic making her sharp and focused. 

Time time seems to tick by, and every moment they don’t come out she panics more. She is stepping inside before she can stop herself, hissing out a breath when she bumps into Rick. 

He puts his hands on her shoulders to stop her from falling but she pushes them away shaking. “You are taking forever.” She hisses stepping around him to steal a glance at the man. A hand on her upper arm stops her from stepping forward, but she leans around him. 

The man on the floor was young-ish, older than she was, but younger than Daryl maybe. The lower half of his face was covered in a thick, well-trimmed beard, his hair clean and most of his frame was covered by a long trench coat. They had bound his hands and feet, a plate of Carols cookies sat near his head.

“Hey! He gets cookies.” She tried to make light, tried to ease the panic gripping her chest at the sight of a man who should not be there.   
The firm hand on her arm was back again, this time she let him pull until they are standing at the front door of the basement cell. They spoke in causal voices, but she didn’t understand them. They are only words floating around in her brain.

“Pandora?” It was that tone again, the one everyone used when they had to call her name more than once. Where had she even gone this time? Daryl’s face was suddenly square in her field of vision. Startled, her hands flew up to touch his shoulders. 

“Sorry,” She whispered, fingers sliding over the leather vest he wore. “What?” 

“Ah gotta stay till someone else comes.” He was lowering his body, sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall. 

She tilted her head to the side. He always said I, like there was still just an I. Like everything she had worked so hard to gain wasn’t tied to him. It was we now, she thought mildly, it would always be we. She was sinking down beside him now, body pressed tight against his side to leech some of the warmth he always radiated. 

“Tell me?” 

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* I always imagine Daryl feeling warm all the time lol!


	19. Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Almost didn't make it to post this tonight, just got back from seeing Logan. Seriously everyone go watch that movie, it was legit so amazing! Anyway watching the new episode of TWD right now as I type so far so far. Can't wait until I finally catch up with the show, as the pace I'm moving though it wont be any time soon lol! This chapter is a bit of filler so bear with me!

“Well” She huffed, head tilting back to stare up at the stars above them “That was quite the adventure.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Damn pain in my ass was what it was.”

“Hey.”

A man she didn’t know stood on the other side of the railing looking at them. A slight stiffness crept into her muscles but she worked to control herself to ease out the tension. She told herself that he lived here, he was from Alexandria so he wasn’t a stranger.

“I’ll take over watching the door.”

“Bout time” Daryl rumbled, annoyed. She wondered if he was annoyed because he hated waiting or because he didn’t like keeping her out so late. She hadn’t minded the time, it wasn’t like she would be sleeping. They had the chance to talk more, catch up on each other’s day. He had been going out to look for food and supplies almost every day for the last few weeks. It had left little time for them to spend together, it had also left her trying to fill her days without him.

Turning, she was about to say thank you to the man but Daryl had other ideas. He was already pulling her up and collecting the blanket off the floor where it fell. The inside of her head became jumbled again as she hadn’t been given the time to work out her next move before she was being pulled away.

The house they shared was only a short walk from where they held the man, but the entire walk Daryl pulled her along with him. As if he wasn’t there she wouldn’t make it on her own. It seemed like she blinked and suddenly found herself standing in their kitchen, Daryl rummaging in the fridge.

“Guess someone came by.” He muttered, pulling a plate of cookies from the fridge.

“Oh, hey.” Moving around him to snatch one off the plate. They were good, sweet, chewy and a little nutty too. “How does Carol do this?” She asks, mouth still full of cookie. He only shakes his head reaching to take one too. In two bites, he’s done and reaching for a second.

At first, her relationship with Carol had been rocky at best, but the weeks that she had spent here the other woman had slowly made herself a common presence in Pandora’s life. When she made it back from their adventure on the other side of the wall she heard about how Carol had saved their home. Almost by herself, she had killed every wolf that had tried to take this place. That was what had cemented their relationship and ultimately what helped finally pull her out of her depression.

“The plus side of the end of the world,” She says reaching into the now open fridge grabbing water for them both. “Is that cookies are dinner.” The end of the sentence was punctuated with a wide yawn. She covered her mouth but Daryl had sharp eyes.

“Come on bed, ain’t like you get alota sleep, anyway.” He muttered.

He moved around the kitchen putting the bottles away and the cookies back in the fridge. It looked so domestic, despite the dirty clothes and crossbow strapped to his back he looked at home. When he finished, he headed to the stairs. He didn’t need to look back to check if she was following, she was always following.

  
Her night-time ritual had been designed by the doc. Hot bath, clean clothes, and a book. When she was in bed with a book, Daryl stood in the door after she had worked through a few pages.

  
“Me and Rick are going out again tomorrow.” His frame leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest. His face appeared closed off, more so than usual. But he almost looked like he was waiting for something, for her? For what? Should she ask him to stay? If she did, would he?

  
‘I could ask him’ she thought ‘If I asked, he would stay.’ She was sure of that, he had a habit of giving into any of her requests. That was selfish though, keeping him here would only help her but if he went out on a run that would help everyone.

  
“Ok.” The word came out slowly, drawn out carefully. “I’ll wait.”

  
Daryl only nodded, turning to disappear down the darkened hall way.

  
Confused, she set the book down and started pulling blankets over herself as she lowered down into the bed.

  
Sleep came quickly, and it was mostly peaceful. Sometime in the night the dreams started. She stood in the empty streets of Alexandria. Empty? That wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be empty. She tried to turn but her movements were slow, like she was moving in water. Everything around her seemed to have a grey tint. There was no sound, even her footsteps made no sound as she wandered down the streets. Stopping, she tried to snap her fingers but again, nothing.

  
“Pandora!”

  
It was his voice, she would know it anywhere even with the hint of panic it had that she rarely heard from him. It ripped through the silence making it seem overbearingly loud.

  
“Daryl!” She called back.

  
In the middle of the empty street she screamed for him. She ran now, struggling to go faster but she pushed harder. But their house was empty, Rick’s house was empty, the medical house was empty. Everywhere she looked was empty.

  
“Daryl!” She screamed his name until her voice was raw. She ran and ran but at every turn there was nothing, yet Daryl never stopped calling for her.

  
“Pandora! The gate!”

  
God damn it. She was running again, this time towards the gate. It wasn’t open, of course it wasn’t, even in her dreams she wasn’t that stupid. But she must be because his voice was coming from beyond that gate she was sure of it. She started opening the gate a few inches to slip through to the other side. She could hear his voice still, so she followed.

  
“Pandora!”

  
That scream turned into something different, somehow becoming even louder making the world of Alexandria shatter like glass. Hands were on her then, a scream ripping its way through her chest. When her eyes snapped open, Daryl loomed over her. Instinct kicked in and her hands started flying out to push him away. He was faster though, catching her by the wrists.

  
“It’s me ok!”

  
“Fuck” she muttered. Turning away, wrist slipping from his grasp to cover her eyes. She felt the wetness then, the trail of tears that must have been flowing while she dreamed. “I’m sorry, shit sorry.”

  
The mattress dipped under his weight, she couldn’t see him but she could feel the warmth of his body. Her eyes shut for a moment, the images of the dream flashed behind her eyelids. Her fingers pressed against her eyes until bright lights appeared instead of the images.

  
“Hey, hey,” He pulled her hands away from her eyes. “Nightmare? Yah been screaming my name.”

  
She blinked away the tiny lights in her eyes, pulling herself upright. “I dreamt you went missing, outside the walls.”

  
“Ah ain’t though.” He whispered, a warm hand settling on her arm. “Yah want to-”

  
“Stay?” She cut him off, shifting to one side of the bed to make room. He was probably about to ask if she wanted to get up since most of the time she did, unable to get back to sleep after a nightmare. He says nothing else, only slips in under the blankets. The mattress dips down more and she moves just a hair to put a line of space between them before she falls asleep again.

  
The next time she wakes up it’s because Daryl is shaking her again, but the panic in his voice is just as real as it had been in the dream. She comes out of sleep quick, hands reaching out to make sure he was real.

  
“Get up, Pandora comm’on, that motherfucker got out.” He is already getting dressed, pulling his vest on while jamming his foot into boots.  
She moves slower, but at least she’s moving. There is a pair of tights on the bed already, he must have gotten them out for her. How long had he been trying to wake her up? She slipped the tights on while he tossed a green sweater at her. Pulling it over her head, she pulled the too long sleeves into her palms. The sweater was at least a size too big, but that was how she liked it. Tight material on her upper body made her uncomfortable, it made her more aware of the fact that she had become mostly bones and muscle, no fat to speak of.

  
She must have been taking too long because he appeared in the door way of her room, full scowl in place.

  
“Com’on I ain’t leaving you here with that asshole out there.” He moved then out of the room, heavy steps sounding down the stairs.

  
In a few seconds, she dressed, belt around her waist and knife slipped inside its case. She ran right behind him down the stairs only to find him already at the front door waiting. The moment he saw her, he was moving again, and again she followed. Down the street this time, to Rick’s she realized, as they headed towards the end of the street.

  
Daryl flung the front door open rushing inside, she followed again until she ran right into his outstretched arm. Eyes travelling upwards to meet with his hard face, finger pressed to his lips for her silence. The arm that stopped her drifted for the gun behind his back, “Stay here.” He whispered before heading up the stairs.

  
The panic is there inside her, thick and hot, it jumbles her thoughts. So much so that she doesn’t notice Glenn, Abraham, and Maggie slipping up behind him. What she hears is the clicks of each of their guns, it seems so loud that she has to cover her ears. The body moves on its own sometimes, like now when she finds herself pressed to the side of the stairs out of sight.

  
She doesn’t hear them talking, doesn’t hear them descending the stairs. Doesn’t see the man being lead to the living room between them. It took Daryl pulling her hands down from her ears to snap her back into the present moment.

  
“Ya alright?” Worried blue eyes flicking over her face.

  
“Fine.” The word came out strained, clipped and tight at the end. He knew she was lying, but he only nodded.

  
“Asshole wants to talk.” He jerked his head towards the living room.

  
Her gaze travelled over to where he was, awake and free. He sat at the head of the table, the others fanned out around him, two chairs on either side left empty. For who, she wondered, head tilting to the side in question. That question was answered a moment later when Rick and Michonne came down taking the chairs.

  
She didn’t think, just moved into the dining room to stand just behind the man named Jesus. He glanced behind her and the intensity of his blue eyes startled her. He fit the nickname Jesus she thought in the pounding seconds they locked eyes, with his long straight hair and bread he could indeed be the son of God returned. Then he smiled at her and involuntarily she stepped back, hitting the solid frame of Daryl standing just behind her.

  
“Ya sure?” His voice low, lips almost right against her ear when he spoke, she only nodded.

  
Having all the information was better than having no information, or getting an edited second hand version of it. She needed to see the threat, needed to know what they are up against. Others had a habit of sugar coating information for her, jumping over key details in fear of triggering her. She would stay listen to what he had to say, show him she was indeed a member of this community.

  
Gaze travelling around the room she noticed how everyone tried to look calm. Rick leaning an arm on the table facing Jesus, Carl sitting as his position almost a mirror image of father, Glenn leaning back, Abraham behind him with his arms crossed. What she didn’t miss were the guns sitting on the table, one in front of each of them all pointed at Jesus. For the first time since she had been here the full realization of how dangerous they were hit her full in the chest. These people were killers, they would kill not only the dead, but the living, any living who dared to threaten them.

  
“So, how’d you get out?” Rick asked.

  
Jesus only shrugged, “One guard can’t cover two exits and third floor windows. Knots untie and locks get picked. Entropy comes from order, right?”  
“Right.” Daryl almost snarls the word at him, she steps closer attempting to offer comfort for his rage.

  
“I checked out your arsenal. I haven’t seen anything like that in a long time. You’re well-equipped, but your provisions are low. Very low for the people you have. 54, right?”

  
The words speared her brain, sending her heart skipping into a panicked beat. He had been sneaking around all night, checking out how they lived and counting their people. Counting their people, had he gone inside the homes or looked in the windows? Reaching out her fingers, she found Daryl and started to grip his hand painfully tight. His gaze flicked to her for a fraction of a second, and it seemed like he understood the panic. His returning grip was just as tight, pulling her even closer to him.

  
“More than that.” Maggie snapped.

  
“Well, I appreciate the cookie. My compliments to the chef.” He turned then, eyes locking with her again for the second time.

  
Seconds ticked by, but she didn’t flinch, eyes glued to him. He smiled, she didn’t return it, only gave him an icy stare in return. In her head, she hoped she was fooling him, hoped the cold eyes would mask the slight tremble in her frame and the fact that her hand gripped Daryl’s.

  
“Yeah, she ain’t here.” Daryl snapped, drawing Jesus’ attention away from her.

  
Pandora sagged when the pressure of his stare was gone.

  
“Look, we got off to a bad start. But we’re on the same side—the living side. You and Rick had every reason to leave me out there but you didn’t. I’m from a place like this one. Part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. I took your truck because my community needs things, and both of you looked like trouble.”

  
She scoffed, he wasn’t wrong, they were trouble.

  
“I was wrong. You’re good people and this is a good place. I think our communities may be able to help each other.”

  
Communities. The word rattled around in her head. A community meant more people, people living together, being safe. Behind walls maybe, it must be behind walls, how else were they going to be safe. Do they have as many people as we do? Maybe they had been together form the start, that still happened sometimes.

  
The rest of the conversation became lost on her as she tried to work out the idea of more places just like this one. Around her, their lips still moved, but she didn't understand them.

  
It wasn’t until Daryl was in front of her again that she realized the meeting had ended.

  
“Pandora?”

  
“Huh?”

  
Her eyes focused again, the room was empty except for Jesus and Rick leaning over a map and speaking in low tones.

  
“Let me take you home ok? Before we go” He had his hand on her arm now, about to take her from the room.

  
“Wait what?”

  
“Ahm leaving soon, gotta pack the RV.”

  
“I don’t understand.”

  
Daryl’s eyes flickered over her face realizing that she hadn’t heard everything.

  
“We’re going to see this place; the place Jesus came from. Wanna see what it's all about.”

  
“Are you fucking crazy?!” She hissed. Louder than she thought, she guessed, because Jesus and Rick turned to stare at them.

  
“We gonna be just fine, we gonna go look then come right back. Ah’ll be home tomorrow.”

  
She didn’t argue, only turned to storm from the room. She could have sworn she heard Jesus say something about women, but she moved too fast to be sure.  
Back in the house, she raged, pacing her room in quick, angry strides. What the fuck were they thinking? They were going to follow a man who stole from them, who broke out and snuck around their home at night. Panic and anger flared then, shoving her hand into her mouth, she screamed into it. It helped, the pain from biting down on her hand let her let go of some of her rage.

  
When she had calmed down enough, her small frame moved with a new sense of purpose. Closet first for the black bag, dresser next for an extra change of clothes, bedside table then for her emergency bottle of anxiety pills and some proteins bars. Once the bag was packed, she headed downstairs. Like fucking hell she would let him go alone. Stupid idea anyway, albeit hers was even stupider. But that didn’t matter right now.

  
Side stepping around the chair at her window, she looked out, making sure to only pull the curtain aside enough for her to see outside. The last thing she needed would be for someone to find her. When the coast was clear, she slipped out the door. Better to go through the backyards as it was the best way to make sure no one saw her. Hopping the fences easily, a small, twisted part of her had to admit it was also kind of fun. As long as she didn’t think about the end result, just about the process of getting there she would be fine. Once she got to the house at the end of block voices floated out to her, she had made it to Rick’s house.

  
“Back at the house Ah think, she’s pretty pissed.” Daryl's voice. She crept between the two houses, leaning around to see the layout of activity in front of her.

  
“Do you blame her? Look at what happened the last time you said it was safe.” Denise now, somewhere from the front of the house.

  
"Ah know that. Ah asked Carol to go check on her in case she doesn't wanna see me."

  
She could see Denise standing behind Daryl who appeared to be working on the RV. A sigh escaped her, that would be perfect for hiding. She tuned out the rest of their conversation, only focusing on watching the bodies mulling around the RV. After a few minutes, she had it, the perfect opportunity. Abraham turned to go inside, Maggie and Glenn following behind him. She bolted then, easing the door open and slipping inside. The inside is empty of people for the moment, just some bags and guns. Running for the bathroom she slips inside and shuts the door behind her.

  
In that moment, hidden behind the closed door of the bathroom the realization of what she had done hit her. She had put herself inside the vehicle they were going to take outside of the walls. Even after everything that had happened, some part of her fucked up brain thought this was a good idea.

  
“Shit, shit, shit, shit” She whispered, feeling the air getting tighter in her chest. “Count” she told herself. She tried counting each breath as she took it. She could stay in here as long as no one needed the bathroom. She could hide here the whole time and slip back inside her house once they came back. Which would be tomorrow, she remembers Daryl saying that, she could be stuck in here until tomorrow?

  
“Let’s chew up some asphalt!” Abraham’s command made her jump.

  
She tried to fumble with the handle on the door to get out. This had been a stupid idea, she would get out right now. Once she was out of this bathroom, she would leave the RV, explain everything to Daryl and it would be fine. With her new plan, shaking fingers tried to open the handle, once, twice, but nothing happened. The door didn’t open, and under her, the RV lurched into motion. A sick feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, panic ran through her. Easing herself down onto the toilet, she tried to breathe through the panic.

  
There had been no way to know how long she had been trapped when she had finally calmed down enough to try getting out again. This time, the door flew open, slamming into the wall on the other side. When she peeked her head out, all eyes turned to her. Heat curled up her neck, tears blurring her vision.  
“Mother dick!” Abraham’s voice broke the ticking silence inside. Running a hand over his face, “Might as well come out kid, can’t do anything now.”  
“What's going on?” Rick’s voice came from the front of the RV.

  
“God damn stole away.” Abraham muttered, sitting back down in the little chair.

  
Daryl is in front of her now, both hands on her arms pulling her out of the bathroom. She didn't struggle just let him pull her into the back of the RV.

  
“What were yah thinking?”


	20. Stole Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20!! I feel like this is kind of a mile stone for me. I wrote 20 Chapters, I have never stuck with writing anything this long you. I have a bunch of started works but nothing has become what this had become. I am still having fun writing, and my BETA is still having fun I think! Big thanks to her for putting up with me for this long your the best!   
> As a side note can I take a moment to talk about how much I love this chapter? I really do love it. I love all the difference sides of Pandora we get to see here, there is a darkness that we haven't really seen before. In this chapter we get some flashes of it, but it will come into play as her story progresses. 
> 
> Check me out on tumblr too I would love to connect with you http://mytinykisses.tumblr.com/

The scene outside the windows quickly turned into tree lined country roads. Pandora sat unmoving, knees drawn up to her chest. She tries to avoid looking out the window while also trying not to glance at Daryl. He was propped up on his elbows with his gaze locked on her hers, unmoving. Trying to find anywhere else to look besides at him or the window was getting uncomfortable. With every passing second of silence, her shoulders sagged a little more as she felt the weight of his gaze. The silence stretched a few more heartbeats before she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I get that this was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” She whispered, fingers pressed hard to her temples to clear a headache blooming behind her eyes.

The pressure didn’t last long before she could feel a force pulling her arms down. With a blink, she opened her eyes and found Daryl’s crystal blue ones. She blinked again, but he was still there looking down at her. With the pressure of his hands around her wrists she found everything around her becoming sharper.

“I didn’t…” The sentence died as her thoughts were unable to come forward. “I couldn’t..” Frustrated, she tore her wrists away from him, scrubbing her hands over her face. After a few deep breaths she looked up at him, trying to start again.

“I was scared I guess, after my dream. I was scared that if you went outside those gates that you wouldn’t come back. I wanted to see it for myself too, see these other people to make sure they were what Jesus said, just people.” The words tumbled out now, rolling off her tongue with a speed she didn’t know she had. “I get it, it makes no sense, at the time it made perfect sense and now? Here I am, terrified again.”

She needed to catch her breath after she finished her explanation. While she tried to suck more air into her lungs, more was being pushed out of her again. Daryl came close now and put his arms around her to press her into the hard muscle of his chest.

She was shocked into stiffness. He never reached for her, he didn’t back away when she reached out for him, but this was different. After the initial shock she melted into him, bones turning to jelly.

“I’m sorry,” She muttered, face pressed against him and arms snaking around his waist. He surrounded her, his frame folding around her until she all but disappeared. “I know, I was so fucking stupid.”

“Ahm always gonna come back.” His voice rumbled from his chest, vibrating through her.

Some rational part of her knew there was no way he could make this promise to her. It didn’t matter though, not right now. Not when she was pressed tight against the only thing that felt like safety since this whole thing started. In this moment, his promise was everything.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat. Going stiff for a second she breathed in deep, taking note of his scent before peaking around him.  
Rick stood behind them, one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans.

“Everything all right?”

“Yah.” Daryl was letting her go now, body tensing as he put space between them. One hand remained firm on the small of her back acting as a grounding point. How odd they must appear to everyone. Her: not even a full person as she was all skin, bones and jagged edges. A fraction of what she used to be. Then Daryl: strong, silent, and still very closed off despite the time he had spent with the group. She wondered if any of his family ever thought they would see this side of him, a person who cared so deeply.

The thoughts drifted away the moment she remembered Rick standing there.

“I didn’t mean to get in the way, I mean I won’t get in the way. You won’t even notice I’m here if that’s ok,” She was blabbing again. “I mean I won’t leave the RV if you don’t want me to. I mean if you don’t think it’s a good idea for me to leave the RV.”

She watched him run a hand over his chin, then he got down on one knee in front of her. For the first time, she didn’t flinch or shift away, just sat watching him.

“Alexandria is your place too Pandora, you belong here as much as anyone.” His hand left a slight touch on her knee. “You have every right to see this place.”

She nodded, locks of hair swimming in her watery gaze. Rick gave her knee another squeeze before leaving them alone again. A few seconds passed against in silence, she tried to rub the wetness from her eyes. It was stupid to be so unsettled by words. Those words coming from Rick carried a weight to them, a weight that settled deep in her bones.

“Looks like we’re stopping, wanna get some air?” Daryl was leaning back on the bed again, propped up on his elbows. He must have moved when Rick had spoken to her, she really needed to pay more attention.

Her head turned as she glanced out the window. He was right, everyone was outside now to look around, check nearby cars and stretch their legs. She could do that. Everyone was outside, what could happen in the center of this group?

“Sure.” Her voice wasn’t as strong as she would have liked it to be, but she still stood and headed towards the door.

When she stood on the road outside the RV, the slamming of the door startled her. Her head jerked around and she caught Daryl’s eyes as he stepped out behind her. Right, she was fine. The group stood around her with Glenn and Maggie at the front of the RV speaking in low tones. Abraham puffing on a cigar next to Jesus who was obviously trying to start a conversation.

Pandora stepped away from them, titling her head upward to feel the sun on her face. Despite the cool start to the day, the sun was out and warming everything up . The light eased the darkness behind her eyelids and she smiled despite herself. She was outside the walls, but she felt wonderful. The fear was somewhere there like it always was, but it was under control. She wasn't sure what it was really, the knife at her hip or maybe the lesson from Rosita. Not that it mattered, whatever it was, she would take it.

The surrounding area was new, she had never been here before and the need to know her surroundings ate at her. She headed for the ladder, hand tightening around the rung just above her head. It took little effort for her to pull herself up one handed, she was too light which should alarm her. Another time, she told herself, continuing the climb up to the roof on the RV. Fields stretched the length of her vision, as far as she could see was nothing but fields and the odd house some distance away.

“See anything interesting?”

The force at which her head snapped back made her neck ache. On the ladder stood the man Jesus, he was half way up already, and she hadn’t heard him. The shock of seeing him made her stumble backward, catching on some raised bit of the roof.

“Hey,” He raised his hands in the air, face becoming alarmed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What the fuck.” Daryl’s deep growl came from the ground. “Get down.”

Jesus disappeared from her sight. She pictured Daryl ripping him off the ladder, pitching the other man to the floor. That picture of violence in her head made her stomach turn. She worried about the new man oddly enough. Rushing to the side of the roof, she got down on her knees to peer over the side. Daryl was standing in front of Jesus, finger digging into the other man’s chest but their voices were too low for her to hear. Jesus had his hands up like he did when she had seen him.

She was down the ladder in three steps, sliding up beside Daryl to put her hand on his arm. He jerked his head to the side scowling at her.  
“It’s fine,” she wanted to say and it was fine because Jesus didn’t know her. She didn’t though, only turned to Jesus. Chin lifting, she met his bright blue eyes, “I was looking for your home, maybe you're lying.” Wherever this courage came from, she couldn’t say, but there she was speaking to a stranger.

“I can’t wait to show it to you.” The smile never flickered from his face, it become stronger, like a light turning all the way on. It unsettled her, and because of it she turned and headed back inside the RV. Everyone else followed only moments later.

She was sitting near the back of the RV, closer to the bedroom. Daryl was beside her, half turned to gaze out the window. Ahead of them, Abraham and Glenn were leaning towards each other speaking in hushed tones. A yawn slipped through her parted lips but she ignored it and got up instead to peer out the window in the back of the RV. She would not sleep in here to spare everyone the sight of her waking up screaming.

As she watched the trees pass them by, more and more little buildings seemed to spring up. It was with her face pressed to the glass trying to read the writing on the buildings that she felt them slow down. She peeked into the hallway to see everyone watching the front of the RV.

Silently, she slipped up beside Daryl who had moved to the middle of the RV, “What is it?”

“Some of Jesus’ people, I think.” He muttered.

Moving back to the window, she eyes the wreck now beside them. A car is turned on its side as the dead had caught under the wheels.

“That’s sad."

“What?”

She turned to examine Daryl who was eyeing her with the oddest expression on his face.

Her own expression reflected her confusion. “Look at the wreck, they are dead so we should keep moving.”

Clearly no one heard her or no one thought she was right because the door was opening and Jesus was the first outside. Despite the voice in her head screaming at her to lock the door behind them she followed them out.

By the time she stepped outside, Rick was holding a gun to Jesus' head. This seemed to be the only interaction the two had.

“If this is a trick, it won’t end well for you.” Rick cocked the pistol he held at Jesus’ head.

“My people are in trouble. They don't- we don’t have a lot of fighters.”

He is frantic now, she could see it. The panicked dart of his eyes, his erratic movements. Gaze flickered to the car, it was empty aside from the old walkers. She slunk beside Daryl, a light touch on his arm caused him to look over. He jerked his head to the side for her to follow him.

“I know how this looks I’ll play it out. Can I borrow a gun?” Jesus leaned in towards Rick nervously smoothing his jacket. 

“No.”

Rick’s tone was so harsh that even Pandora stiffened, he wasn’t even talking to her.

Daryl was leaning over the car, eyes on the ground. Beside her, the dead woman stuck in the tire groaned and tried to reach out for her. She shoved the small knife from her belt in her head, the action was second nature to her.

“Hey! We got tracks here.”

She takes a second to notice Daryl had stepped away from her toward the front of the car. He was pointing towards the ground. The group followed his lead, while she trailed a few steps behind. Across the small intersection was a building. Pandora stood behind Maggie and Michonne, eyes wandering to try to figure out what the building was. An office maybe, not that it mattered but it gave her something to do.

The sharp sound of Rick banging on the door turned her attention back to them.

“They gotta be in there.” Jesus said with his eyes fixed on Rick.

“We moving in or what?” She glanced at Abraham who had his hand on his gun, pacing. He reminded her of a caged animal, something deadly pacing a cage just waiting for the wrong person to stick their hand inside.

“How do we know this ain't firecrackers in a trash can?” Daryl was pacing in and out of her line of sight, anxiety rolled off him in waves. For a moment she considered offering him some of the Xanax she had tucked in her bag, but decided against it.

"You don’t."

“We’ll get your people. You’re staying here with one of us.” Rick faced the group, his eyes scanned over everyone.

She knew she wasn’t even an option, so it didn’t matter who stayed. It would be her and someone else, no one would trust him alone with just Pandora to keep watch. Her gaze started to wander again to the surrounding buildings. There was a barn down the road, maybe they would look inside after to see what they could take. Daryl was beside her then, interrupting her train of thought.

“Ahm going in, you stay with Maggie ok?” His hand was on her arm, fingers gripping into the soft skin and causing a sharp focus.

“Ya ya I’ll stay.” She whispered, keeping her voice low. From the corner of her eye she could see Rick tying Jesus’ hands behind his back. He was turning to Maggie now.

“You hear me whistle, shoot him.”

“I will” Maggie shifts her weight from one foot to the other, raising her gun to point at his back.

Pandora moves towards the door as everyone gets ready. Daryl is holding the door open, he will be the last one in. Her fingers brush his arm as Glenn moves past him.

“Be safe.” She tells him, voice pitched low for only him to hear.

“Ain’t nothing gonna happen, Ah’ll be back.” Then the door is closing, and he turns to cast one more glance her way before disappearing down the hallway.

“Come’ere” It’s Maggie calling her. Maybe a whole minute past with her standing in front of the door staring. Turning, Maggie jerked her head to the side raising her eyebrows when Pandora didn’t move right away. With a glance towards the door one more time, she moved to stand beside Maggie.   
“You ok?” Maggie asked her hand lowering the gun only a fraction.

“I’ll be fine as soon as they come out.” The answer came out quick, with a sharp edge. She recognized it right away in her own voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” Her hands shook as she ran her fingers through her hair. There was a building panic inside her now and with every heartbeat it grew.

“I know, you’re worried about Daryl. I’m worried about Glenn.” The other woman shrugged. There is something in her voice that Pandora can’t quite put her finger on. Maggie worried about Glenn because she loved him, she worried about Daryl because? Well because she loved him too. That was really what it comes down too, she loved him because of how amazing he was. He had saved her, how could she not love him for that?

“You are all good people for doing this, for helping my people.”

Pandora jumped, she had forgotten he was there again. How could one man wearing so much clothes make himself so quiet all the damn time?

“I thought they were all dead.” Pandora noted offhandedly, something about him made him easy to talk to. “I would have left.”

Jesus only smiled at her though, “Good thing you weren’t driving then.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, his calmness was grating her nerves. She turned to Maggie who still had her gun trained on Jesus.

“I’m going to go on the roof ok?”

“Ya go keep an eye out. You have a gun?” Maggie was reaching behind her like she already knew the answer, Pandora shook her head anyway. “Here take this one.” In the other woman's hand was a small six chamber gun.

Seconds ticked by before she reached out to take it, fingers closing on the handle.

“Thank you.”

Then she turned back towards the RV, climbing onto the roof. They should put a chair on the roof for her or something with all the time she seemed to spend up here. A quick scan of the surrounding area showed nothing, but it loosened the tension she had been holding in her shoulders. Turning to the side facing the office building she sunk down to the floor, legs hanging off the side. She turned the gun over and over in her hand watching the sun catch the side of the bright metal.

No one had given her a gun before, maybe it was the Doctor’s orders or maybe it was Daryl's idea, she wasn't sure. As dark thoughts curled and took form in her head, it didn't take long for her wonder why. It would take two seconds, three maybe and she would be dead. A bullet to the side of her head would end everything. It was a sick thought and somewhere in her head she knew it. But still, there was a rush of relief that came with the thought of being dead. No more panic, nightmares, anxiety, flashbacks. Popping open the chamber she counted the bullets inside, six, the chamber was full. Would Daryl miss her? Maybe, but he would forget soon. There were too many other things that would clamor for his attention.  
Snapping the chamber shut, she rested it on her legs. It was always an option. She could end it all whenever she wanted. Today though, today was a good day despite everything that had happened, she was under control.

The wait was nothing to her, every day for the last several days she had been waiting for him. This was shorter. There was a flicker of movement on the glass. Shoving the gun in her waist band she stood, shielding her eyes to see, it was them it had to be them. Not bothering with the ladder, she jumped from the roof, small sparks of pain shot through her foot but it didn't stop her from running.

Rick and Michonne came out first, two others she didn’t know followed behind. She ignored them as she darted past. Daryl was behind the strangers, she flew at him. He must have expected something like that because his feet were planted and his frame unmoving even with the force of her weight.

“See? Easy.” His voice was low in her ear and she shivered, pressing herself tighter to him. Long moments ticked by in silence until he let her go, jerking his head toward the RV and everyone else already moving in that direction. “Come’on time to hit the road.”

When they reached the door, everyone was already inside. Stepping up the stairs, she stood frozen in the doorway. The people they had found were inside too, some in the front and some in the back.

“Pandora? Come on kid.” Abraham was calling her inside, they were the last ones to get on. But her brain froze, stuck on the faces of the strangers in this closed space with her.

“Ya got this, Ah got you.” Daryl’s voice behind her jump-started her into motion. Before she knew it, she was all the way in the back of the RV, hidden from the eyes of those she didn’t know.

From where she stood at the window, she watched the world pass by. Her hands were tight in fists at her sides. Strangers were still a sore spot for her these days. Take people she doesn’t know plus a small enclosed space and you have the recipe for a Pandora style panic-attack.

Beside her, Daryl kept stealing glances in her direction. “What number?” He kept his voice low, but she was sure she saw the one who was a doctor glance at her.

“Somewhere between a three and freaking the fuck out.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a panicked hiccup. Her hand shot over her mouth to stifle the sound.

“Yah all right, we'll be outta here soon. Dump these people back where they came from.” He was moving closer now, the solid feeling of him helping her keep a hold on the fragile calmness she had left. Shifting, she moved so she was between him and the window, he didn’t move away and let her slip in the space there.

They stood not talking for awhile, just watching. When they stopped moving the jolt of it caught her off guard. Daryl was faster than she was though, catching her arm and keeping her upright and balanced.

From the front of the RV the conversation floated towards them.

“Come’on seems like we’re here.”

They waited until everyone else had left before they made their way outside to join them. When she pushed the door open, she stopped, furrowing her brows peering at the ground. The ground in front of her was a sea of wet, brown mud. 

“These are my good boots.” She muttered under her breath. She could have sworn she heard Daryl chuckle behind her. Still, she didn’t move.

“Come on kid, don’t got all day.” Abraham was holding out his arms, lip upturned in a small smile.

Despite the situation she currently found herself in, she grinned at him and jumped right at him. He caught her with no problems, shifting her so she was on his back instead. Unable to stop herself, she laughed trying to picture what they looked like to everyone else. The new people all turned to watch them, not even trying to hide their stares. 

“These are my good boots.” She announced as they passed them. Under her, Abraham laughed. He took wide steps to clear the muddy ground before he set her down on the grass.

In front of her was a huge wall made of logs, maybe, she would need to be closer to see. Still, it was impressive as it was so high, it reminded her of home.

“That’s us. That’s the Hilltop.”

She followed behind them now, everyone putting guns back in belts or over their shoulders. more relaxed now. Pandora followed beside Daryl, silence stretching over the group. They left the RV then meeting up with a road, but as she walked for longer the path under her turned to mud.

“Great,” she muttered looking down at her now mud covered boots. “This place better be amazing cause it’s ruining my boots.” Daryl only shook his head looking amused.

They didn't walk for long and soon she was staring up at what must be their gate. A stream of sunlight cut through the clouds then right into her eyes, raising her hand over her face she tried to make out the two figures on top of the gate.

“Stop right there!” The voice came from somewhere above them, the gate maybe. She couldn’t see as the sun filled her gaze with nothing but blinding light. Around her, she could hear the sounds of guns cocking and feet moving.

“You gonna make us?” Daryl asked, tone clipped with anger.

“Jesus what the hell is this?”

A man spoke from the top of the gate. She shifted, taking the small gun Maggie had given her and following suit by pointing the barrel at the men she saw standing with the spears. Around the handle, her hands shook as she tried to make sure it was aimed the right way. In front of them, Jesus held his hands up, calm compared to the fighting stance of the rest of her group.

Her group, she had thought it so casually now. When had that happened? When did they become her group? Was it before, when she had fought alongside them for the home they all so desperately needed, or some time before that? She wasn’t sure, but when she turned the word over in her brain, it felt right.

The train of thought she had just followed was all consuming, so much so that it made her miss whatever Jesus had said. He was turning now, speaking to them, but he was looking at her.

“Sorry about these guys.” He tried to smile, but it faltered. His gaze shifted away then moving between Rick and Daryl. “they get antsy standing up there all day doing nothing.”

“They give up their weapons, then we’ll open the gates.”

Panicked, she looked at Daryl. There was way no they would give up their weapons. She wouldn’t and if it meant that she was staying outside, then she was staying outside. She would walk back to the RV and wait there, no one was taking her knife or her newly acquired gun.

“Why don’t ya come down here and get’em?” His reply answered her unspoken question, a tiny bit her tension released from her shoulders.  
Someone else was stepping forward and getting too close so she side stepped away, putting herself to Daryl’s left this time. Glancing over, she recognized the man who was a doctor, she hadn’t taken the time to learn his name.

“Gentlemen look, we vouch for these people alright? They saved us out there.”

Fear crept up her back then, sharp claws digging into her spine. Shifting closer to Daryl, she tried to breathe through it, but it was choking. This would end badly, she knew it. They should go, just turn around and leave. They didn’t need these new people.

“Daryl, let’s go.” The whisper was meant only for him but Jesus turned his head in her direction and she felt herself shrinking under his gaze.  
“Lower the spears.” His voice held a sharper edge now.

Rick was stepping up to Jesus, “Look I’m not taking any chances, tell your guy Gregory to come out here.”

‘No,’ she wanted to scream. ‘We turn around and we go back forget about this place and these people.’

“Daryl.” She whispered again, trying to get his attention but when he didn’t turn, she touched his arm.

Turning, he switched to holding the gun with one hand and with his free hand he reached for her, pulling her even closer. “Ah got you.” Then he was holding the gun up again, hand gone from her arm.

The hard look in his eyes quelled the fear, but only a fraction, causing the demon she pictures to skitter down her spine.  
Jesus was talking to Rick now, loud enough for only her group to hear.

“No, don’t you see what just happened? I’m letting you keep your guns. Look we ran out of ammo months ago. I like you people, I trust you. Trust us.”

A fleeting glance behind Rick and Jesus she noticed everyone but herself and Daryl was lowering their weapons. Rather than follow suit, she increased her grip, knuckles turning white with the force of it.

“Open the gates Cal.”

For a moment, with her heart hammering in her chest, she thinks they are all about to die. She pictures the gates opening and a flood of armed men and women rushing out to greet them. It doesn’t happen though, her group and the new people walk right past her.

“Pandora, come on you can lower the gun now.” Daryl was beside her, his hands around her wrist pulling her arms down. “Where did you get that thing anyway?”

Unlocking her joints, she tucked it back into the belt she was wearing, “Maggie gave it to me.”

He says nothing else, only turns and follows the group inside with her right behind him.


	21. Hilltop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday! Currently watching TWD super excited for this week. Here is her is the new chapter. I think this is one of my favorites actually, I love seeing Pandora out of her element watching how she copes with new situations. Hope you guys like it!

Pandora would be lying if she said her breath didn’t catch just a bit when the gates finally opened and they began to walk inside. Slowing her pace as she gaped around her, she slipped to a place in the back of the group. The small space was filled to the brim with activity. A woman fed a few chickens in a small pen and small raised boxes of different vegetables were spread out everywhere. A few smaller trailers littered the space to her left. In one, a man stood in front of a burning hot fireplace and some distance away half finished wood working projects littered a table. At the back there was a collection of small metal trailers with a few people mulling around outside them.

It was a tiny village, all centered around the grandest house she had ever seen. Ahead of her, the group kept walking. Jogging to catch up, she became aware of eyes on her.

“There was a material yard for a power company near by, that’s how we put up the walls. A lot of people came from a Federal emergency management agency camp trailers came with them.” Jesus walked backwards in front of them now, gesturing to the section of metal trailers.

“How did people find out about this place?” The awe that Pandora felt was clearly reflected in Michonne’s face as she asked.

Jesus smiled, gesturing to the house in front of them, “That’s called Barrington House. The family that owned it gave it to the state in the 30s. The state turned it into a history museum. Every elementary school for 50 miles used to come here for field trips.”

They had stopped now while Jesus continued to talk, she tuned him out though, needing the time to sort through her own head. The house drew her attention again as it is grand, three stories and each wall is full of windows. At the top is a small look-out area, just the sight of it made her heart beat faster. She had to get up there had to see the view.

When she started moving again Daryl reached for her elbow pulling her beside him. “Come’on.” He grunted, heading up the steps. She allowed herself to be tugged along while still trying to drink everything in.

The inside of the house was perfect, just like she pictured an old house like this should look. There was even a wooden table in the center of a carpet in the main room. The whole picture of the place made her laugh softly to herself. She drifted around the room as the drone of Jesus’ voice continued in the background of her hearing. Moving deeper into the room, she found herself next to Daryl. She always seemed to end up next to him.

Her fingers brushed along his arm, it is sticky with sweat. “They have a sitting room.” She pitched her voice low for only him to catch. With a small giggle again, she let her fingers fall from his arm to run them along the chair next to him.

The door behind her opened and a man stepped out dressed in a gray suit. “Jesus! You’re back. With guests.”

The laugher died on her lips as she slipped away from him, sliding back behind Daryl. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest, she tried to reason with herself. It was a closed door, most closed doors had people behind them. This was a new place, everyone was a stranger, so logically a stranger might come from behind a closed door. The rational train of thought, however, did nothing for the hammering in her chest.

“Everyone, this is Gregory.” Jesus announced. “He keeps the trains running on time around here.”

“I’m the boss.” Gregory said with a smile.

Something dark lurked beneath his smile, it made her stomach turn. Uncomfortable, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Rick stepped forward, his gun held in his arms like a small child, “Well I’m Rick we have a community--”

“Why don’t y’all go get cleaned up, hmm?” He cut Rick off, waving a hand at him.

Her gaze moved to Daryl as he stood unnaturally still. She watched him watch the world around him, he focused on the man in front of them named Gregory.

“We’re fine.” The open, friendly face Rick had worn a moment ago slipped away, replaced with a hard look she had come to recognize.

Pandora pictures this scene exploding into violence at any second. Her fingers drumming on the handle of her knife just in case.

“Jesus will show you where you can get washed up. Then, come back down here when you’re ready.” Gregory stepped out of the doorway then leaning in close to Rick with a stage whisper he said, “It’s hard to keep this place clean.”

Pandora didn’t hear Rick’s answer, in fact she didn’t hear much of anything beyond the blood pounding in her ears. In the span of time it took her to control her rage, they had started moving. Daryl was behind her, pushing her up the steps behind Glenn.

Once upstairs, Jesus turned to them to gesture to two open doors on the right, “I have this room empty right now and the bathroom is across the hall.”

Everyone moved toward the room but she hung back, running her hand over the banister. Daryl stepped beside her, leaning over the railing on his elbows.

“Daryl?” Jesus was standing to Daryl’s right, a small smile on his lips. “If you two would come with me I have another room, you can use your own bathroom too.” Jesus winked at her but she lowered her eyes, her throat going dry.

She followed Daryl though, not looking up until she heard the sound of the door click. Only then did she drop her shoulders and head towards the bed in the room. Tossing the bag to the floor, she lays back on the bed, making sure to spread out and rub as much of herself as she can on the crisp, white bed.  
“Yah ok?” Daryl questioned from where he leaned against the door.

Propped up on her elbows, she grinned at him, “It's hard to keep this place clean you know.” The question easily sidestepped as she wasn’t okay. She found herself somewhere between a functioning person and a panic attack.

Daryl only shook his head, “Go clean up. Ah’ll wait.” He stood by the window now, always on high alert.

Letting out a sigh, she got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom. Freshly showered, she was back in the room minutes later, Daryl passing her without a word. Standing at the window, she finger combed her damp hair as she had just given it a quick wash in shower. That slime ball did say clean up, so she had taken full advantage.

Below her, people went about their usual tasks of feeding the animals and washing clothes. Behind her, the bathroom door clicked open so she turned, eyes running over the length of him.

“You clean up pretty good.” She said, glancing back out the window.

“Yah ok?” He asked, standing beside her, not touching but close enough that the heat rolled off him in waves. She tried not to roll her eyes, he wouldn’t let her go without an answer.

“I think I am a steady three right now.” She finished working through her damp hair, wiping her hands on the tank top she had on under her sweater. “This is a lot of new shit, but I’m holding it together.”

He only nodded, “Ready?”

Breathing deep, she tried to fill her lungs with as much air as she could with her fists clenching and unclenching slowly at her sides.

“If it’s too much yah tell me, and we leave.”

She nodded again, turning and heading towards the door. They were in the main room again, only this time it was empty. Well, mostly empty as she realized Abraham sat back in one of the uncomfortable looking chairs. She had no plans to sit here with him so they could stare at each other until the rest of the group came down.

She turned to head down the long hallway, Daryl caught her arm as he walked past her. “Stay close.”

Nodding, she slipped past to explore the back of the house. The hallway she wandered down opened into a formal dining room. To the left and right there was only more doors, more bedrooms she guessed but she didn’t try to to go in and find out. This was as far as she could go without opening any doors.

“Pandora?”

A voice behind her made her jump, nails digging into her soft palms. She turned slowly from the window she had been looking out to see Jesus at the end of the hall. He kept a good bit of distance between them to which she was grateful.

“Is here ok?” he asked, after he had taken a few steps closer to her.

With a glare at him she nodded, crossing her arms around her middle as she was suddenly feeling too exposed. She was making strides every day with her group but strangers were a different story. Right now, her home was damn far away.

“I never formally introduced myself to you, I’m Paul or Jesus.” His smile lit up. “and you are Pandora. I heard Daryl say your name before. Anything you need, please just ask.”

In her mind’s eye, she pictured the lookout she had seen from outside. Anxiety rattled her brain. Sucking in a breath, she dug her fingers hard into her side before she could answer.

“The lookout. I’d like to see that.” She tried to pitch her voice louder to make sure he could hear her beyond the distance.  
Her answer came in his smile which almost impossibly got bigger.

“I can show it to you. Right now, even.”

She counted the seconds between her breaths again before she tried to answer. When she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Heat crept up her neck, flooding her face. She had been doing so fucking well but with a few words from Jesus she was tripping over herself, unable to pull herself together long enough to even string a sentence together.  
She turned away for a second, facing the window again and counting backwards from 20 before she turned back.

“I would like to see it, with Daryl.”

When she turned back, Jesus was still smiling. He had stepped to the side, making room in the hallway for her to pass. Pandora stepped away from the window, heading back to the front room where she had left Daryl. He stood in the front room looking out the window. Standing behind him, she touched his arm lightly and he turned, glancing at her over his shoulder.

“Ya?”

“Jesus said he would take me up to see the lookout. Come with me?”

A deep scowl appeared on his face that he aimed at Jesus, she guessed he had followed behind her.

“Ya talked to him?” Daryl asked, turning his face back to her.

Her fingers dug into the soft skin of her palms again. Blinking, she whispered, “Does one sentence count?”

He scoffed, “Alright let’s go.”

Jesus lead them to the back of the house, off the kitchen there was a door with a set of stairs.

“It’s up this way,” He said, heading up before them. “Steps are a little narrow, so be careful.”  
Daryl slipped in between her and Jesus leaving her to follow behind them. In front of her Daryl’s shoulders were a tight line, tension radiated off of him. Daryl didn’t like this man, Pandora knew the story of how Jesus tried to steal their truck. Part of her knew it wasn’t just that, he protected her. She wanted to say she didn’t need it, but who was she kidding really. A month ago, she refused to leave her room as she was suffering a second mental break in a few short months.

The steps opened to a small room, the surrounding walls were nothing but clear panes of window glass. Gasping, she shoved past the two men. Pressing her hands to the glass, she peered at the surrounding area. The view stretched out for miles and miles, she could see the RV down the road and further down the barn and the office building they had been at before.

“This is amazing.” She breathed, her face pressed so close to the glass that her breath fogged it.

“Like I said, perfect for security.”

She stepped away from the window, moving to circle the room to get the view from every side. She hadn’t really paid attention to where they were standing and while she moved around the room, she knocked right into Jesus. He reached out and put a hand on her arm to keep her from tripping over her own feet.  
The instant his hand touched her arm she went stiff, eyes darting up to his face. For a second, he wasn’t Jesus anymore, he was someone else with a face hidden in deep, swirling shadows. The air was sucked from her lungs, sucked from the whole room, it left her gasping. Shaking, her legs threatened to give out. Daryl moved fast though, pulling her away from him.  
“Hey Pandora, you are right here, with me, okay?”

Daryl’s hand were on her upper arms, grip tightening slightly with every word. Through the panic, the pressure was grounding, re-focusing her.

Struggling to breathe, she shut her eyes and started repeating her long forgotten facts. Moments ticked by, the only sound her rapid breathing. When she was finally able to open her eyes, Daryl still held her eyes. Behind him, Jesus had stayed but turned his back to them, giving them as much space as possible in the small room.

“We should, um, get back down to the rest of your group.” He said, not turning to look at them. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

He was gone then, heading down the narrow stairs. Daryl stayed behind her this time and put a hand on her lower back as she walked. Jesus hadn’t waited for them, only went into the main room again. From where they stood, she could see the front room had filled with her group again.

In the corner, Maggie was speaking in low, hushed tones with Rick. The others moved about, clearly agitated and tense. Jesus had joined Maggie and Rick now. She watched him sigh, running his hand over his face.

Daryl lead her into the back of the small sitting room then he left, leaving her to join Rick and Maggie. Eyes wandering around the room, a stiff-backed pink chair caught her attention. It didn’t look welcoming per se, but nothing really did in that place. Pandora sunk down into it, pulling her knees up to her chest. She rested her chin in the space between her knees, still drying locks of hair covering her face.

Had she tumbled into a panic attack, no, but she isn’t in the same frame of mind she had been an hour or so before. The grip she had on the world around her was a shaky hold right now, and she wasn’t sure how to make it more solid. Not in this place that wasn’t her own. In Alexandria, she could see Denise or working out always helped her stay present. Here, her support system was missing, she could already sense herself slipping away slowly.

Oddly, the one who seemed to notice was Jesus. She would catch him casting glances her way, his face a mix of worry and regret. He didn’t stop though, didn’t halt the conversation they were having, none of which she understood.

Reaching down, she ran her fingers over the black bag she had come with. Someone had pushed it under the chair she was in. Had that happened now while she had been sitting here? Probably not, but not like she would have noticed someone putting it there. Taking it from the floor, she hugged it tightly to her chest.

“I will talk to him and we will work this out. Circumstances change.” Jesus was speaking to the group. The context of the conversation went over her head, but suddenly she could feel the tension in the room and it was just another thing she couldn’t handle.

So, she stood with the bag still held tight to her chest moving back to the front room where she could slip out the front door. The porch of the house was large enough that she could find a small corner to sit in away from the eyes of the people here. The air had become a little cooler now, but she didn’t notice, really. Everything was too loud, too tense, to hard right now. When she shifted her weight the little bottle of pills in her bag jingled. Her hand was digging in the back before she could make even some coherent thoughts about why this might be a bad idea. It didn’t matter, in Alexandria meds were a last resort here fuck it.

It took a few tries to get the bottle open with the force at which her hands shook. When it finally open, she popped a little half pill into her mouth and swallowed it dry. It didn’t seem fast enough though the world around her still seemed to move too fast. Everything swam in her vision. The breath in her lungs burned she tried to open her mouth wider, but it didn’t seem to help. Minutes of struggling to breath past and she was left with the feeling that she was floating. It was a nice feeling every emotion from before was water, but she floated above everything.

In front of her the gates opened a small group came rushing in. a small group rushed through four of them, no three maybe. Now everything seemed to slow. Except the moment one of them rushed past her then the world moved too fast. No that one wasn’t part of their group she didn’t think. In the next moment the huge doors swung open, Jesus and Gregory in the lead her group following close behind them.

Getting to her feet she followed them their faces hard with tension. It was so thick she could almost taste it, but it seemed so far away from her that the only reason she only followed due to a dull sense of curiosity.

“Nathan, what happened to everyone else? Where’s Tim and Marsha?”

The man Gregory stood at the front with Jesus.

“They’re dead.”

Dead the word knocked around in her brain, for some reason thoughts just slipping away. She tried to grab them, she did but it was like holding onto water. God damn why didn’t she take these things more often. Sliding up between Daryl and Abraham, fingers brushed his arm lingering longer than she usually did. The heat of his skin felt so nice she looped her arm with his leaning on his arm.

The man moved closer to Gregory now he was saying something but she couldn’t quite make it out. She tried to step closer, but she had looped her arm with Daryl and the moment she moved to step away he pulled her back to his side. Every muscle in his body felt pulled tight, she was about to ask him what was wrong then in front of her the world exploded into chaos.

“Get off me! I had to!” The man lay on the ground now Rick pressing his weight on top of him, the blade still in his hand she could see it.

Around her everything seemed slow, but the kind of slow that happened when you were really paying attention. Rick lay on the floor now with the man under him one hand around his neck the other hitting him. Someone else pulled Rick off, Abraham bolted from her side forever blood thirsty.

She watched the man in red get the upper hand Abraham on the ground. When he wrapped his hands around Abrahams neck, she flew at them. Daryl tried to hold her back she was almost sure, but she danced out of his grip. She wasn’t really thinking about anything, not what she was doing or what she was going to do when she got there she was just getting there.  
The force at which she kicked the man with surprised her. Under her steel toed boots, she heard the crunch of his ribs. He crumpled to the ground a guttural scream. Daryl’s beside her then gun out pointed at the screaming man.

“I don’t think he is getting up” She muttered wiping her hair from her eyes.

“Shit.” He was pacing in front of her now, but he wasn’t watching her his eyes are fixed on Rick and his struggle . 

Turning as well she watched them, when she finally focused on Rick he lay on the ground covered in blood and the man lay above him dead.

This is bad, she thought to herself. The man on the ground was gasping trying to form a sentence, he did say something but she kicked him again another hard one to the same spot. Daryl pulled her away then, for a moment it was still too still.   
Movement exploded again someone had hit Rick, Michonne wasted no time laying her out on the ground. Everyone had guns out now, she should get her gun. For once her hands held it steady, and the gun’s weight was comfortable in her hands. She aimed for the man with spear he looked like he was coming towards them. 

“Drop it!” He screamed was he talking to her? Did he see her?  
It didn’t matter really because Rick was already moving. “I don’t think I will.”

Jesus slipped into her vision hands up like always trying to be the calm one. Looking around she appeared to be the most calm, not a single shake or tremor to be seen.

“Ethan was our friend, but let’s not pretend he was anything more then a coward who attacked us. He did this, and these people stopped him.”

“What can I do?”

“Put the gun away. You’ve done enough.” There was a pause when Jesus made the request but Rick did lower his gun. “You have to know that things aren’t as simple as they might seem. Just give me some time,"

As she watched them titling her head to the side, she felt hands on her. Blinking she turned her head slowly Daryl took the gun from her hand moving to tuck in into his waistband.

“Hey that’s mine, put it back.” She turned lifting her sweater to show him the back of pants where she had been keeping it.  
“No, what the hell did you do?” Hands on her shoulders he turned her around he locked his gaze eyes burning into her.

Uncomprehending she stared back at him, “He was hurting Abraham so I stopped him.”

“That aint what I mean, what happened?”

“Oh,” She grinned at him. Reaching over she pulled the gun free of his waist slipping in back into the spot on the small of her back. “I took a Xanax half of one actually but I feel better.”  
“Shit, not a good fucking time.”

“Would you rather I was a basket case?” Pandora asked some of her anxiety trying to push through her wonderful drug haze. She didn’t get the chance to say anything else because he was dragging her back into the big house with the rest of the group. From the corner of her eye she watched Glenn toss her black bag at Daryl, he caught it one handed keeping the other hand on her lower back.

Once inside he leads her to a smaller room an office, maybe. Her haze getting stronger without something to focus on. Daryl lead her to the sofa in the center of the room. Knees tucked under her she watched the others the room. It was a lot of waiting, they were waiting to hear about the leader here Gregory. He had been stabbed she remembered seeing that now, remembered hearing the sound of the knife sliding into his gut. Shifting she tried to get comfortable on the sofa, but it was terrible. Hard, stiff and cold. She tried to find a way to be comfortable, legs tucked under her leaning back, knees pulled up to her chest chin resting on them, nothing.  
Around her everyone paced small nervous movements. A sigh escaped her followed by a heavy blink. Heaving a sigh she got up and headed to where Daryl stood silent by the window.

“Ya alright?” He asked glancing down at her.

“Tired.” She managed tongue feeling too big for her mouth. The movements of her body were slow now everything seemed to take more concentration. He must have caught on because he was moving her back to the stiff backed sofa again. “No,” she tried to struggle against him. “It not comfy.”

He wasn’t listening though because he pulled her down alongside him.

“Oh better..” she murmured slipping down next to him. Laying down she rested her head on his leg. He didn’t move only stretched out more, under her head she could feel the tightness in his muscles. He was still on edge everyone was, she would be too if she wasn’t high on Xanax. 

“Don’t sleep.” He told her looking down.

In return he got a sloppy grin and no real answer. She could have sworn she heard him muttering something about the “fucking drugs.”

This was much better Daryl’s heat melted away any lingering tension in her muscles.

“Kids ok?” Somewhere Abraham’s voice found her.

“Had those fucking pills from the Doc in her bag.”

“The Xanax?”

“Ya took half.”

Abraham didn’t say anything else, or he did maybe and she had fallen asleep. It didn’t quite feel like sleeping though, the sounds of the room still found their way to her but they seemed far away. On top of her someone draped something heavy, trapping the minimal amount of heat she produced. Under her Daryl sat unnaturally still, there was no way a man should be so still. Any longer though and that stillness would have her slipping right into sleep. There was still so much to know, did she really come all this way only to fall asleep before the end of the day?

Shifting she managed to pull herself into a sitting position, she still leaned heavily on Daryl more so for her own selfish reasons.

“Hey.” His voice was low.

“Hi.” The word is slow detached. “Can’t sleep here, not yet.”

He only sighed the sound shaking through her waking her up even more. It didn’t take long before a restlessness was creeping into her bones. It took more effect that she would have thought to get up from the small sofa, but when she did she wondered to the window. In front of the house that woman was leaning over the dead body, she hadn’t stopped crying. She had been there since everyone had come inside. Daryl materialized beside her one hand moving to rest the small of her back. Every day the small touches became their new normal, a brush of her fingers, his hand on her lower back. She toed a line with him, every day navigating the fine lines of their relationship.

Behind them the door opened and shut when Jesus came in, “Dr. Carson was able to patch Gregory up. He’s in pain but he’ll live.”

Daryl had turned leaving on a bookshelf Watching Jesus opposites him. She had turned with him tucking herself half under his warm arm.

“So, what now?” Michonne asking from her seat in one of the stiff-backed chairs.

“Things like that don’t usually happen here, but, uh, it's settled.” Jesus glanced at Rick first, them Daryl before finally moving to her.

“We heard the name Negan?” Rick said from his causal position against the desk. “A while back Daryl, Pandora and Abraham had a run in with his men. Who is he?”

“Negan is the head of a group of people he calls the Saviours. As soon as the walls were built, the Saviours showed up.” She felt Daryl move and shift then he was gone leaning back on the window alone watching Daryl pace in and out of her vision.  
“They meet with Gregory on behalf of their boss. They made a lot of demands, even more threats. And He killed one of us Rory. He was 16 years old. They beat him to death right in front of us. Said we needed to understand right off the bat. Gregory’s not exactly good at confrontation. He is not the lead I would have chosen but he made this place what it is, and the people like him.”

Maggie sighed hands stuffed in her pockets, “He made the deal.”

“Half of everything,” Jesus confirmed what everyone seemed to be already thinking. “Our supplies, our crops, our livestock, it all goes to the Saviors.”

“And what do you get in return?” Glenn asked like he thought there was going to be an answer that would make it ok.

“They don’t attack this place they don’t kill us.”

Daryl had found his way back to her back to the window she leaned on. She moved making room for him to lean on the bookshelf again.

“What not just kill them?” The deep vibration of his question had her wrapping her hand around his arm holding tightly.

“Most of the people don’t even know how to fight. Even if we had ammo” In front of her Jesus moved close to them, arms folded over his chest.

Rick seemed to un-phased by the story he was hearing. “Well, how many people does Negan have?”

“We don’t know.” Jesus shrugged. “We’ve seen groups as big as 20.”

He had lifted his arm resting it on her shoulders now pulling her closer. “Now, hold up. So they show up they kill a kid, and you give them half of everything?” He is holding onto her tightly as if somehow that would give him the answer he needed to hear. “These dicks just got a good story. The bogeyman he ain’t shit.”  
Daryl was right, and she knew it this man who ever he was he was nothing but a story. They had taken out his men before without a problem. They had been right under his noses.

“A month ago, we took his guys out PDQ. Left them in pieces and puddles.”

Daryl is letting her go now she and she curls against the bookcase huddling into the warmth he had left behind. Counting her breaths she closed her eyes, focusing on the sound of his voice.

“You know, we’ll do it. If we go get your man back kill Negan, take out his boys, will you hook us up? We want food medicine and one of them cows.”

The sentence came out so fast, he was chopping at the bite to get it out.

Rick only shrugged looking as calm as ever, “Confrontation never been something we’ve had trouble with.”

Turning she swept the hair from her eyes blinking the face of Jesus flashed in her vision. She watched him open mouth glancing to each them before finally saying, “I’ll take it to Gregory.”

Jesus left them then, and she found her way back into Daryl’s arms heavy head resting on his chest. The rest of the group moved around, she felt him nod his head but he didn’t move. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she only thing she heard was his soft heart beat against her ear. After some time, the door opened and someone came in, she didn’t need to look to know it was Jesus. He headed straight for the back door, on the back porch she heard their voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Daryl tried to shake her gently, “Hey wanna sit?” He was already moving through towards the little sofa. He eased her down next to him keeping an arm around her. She wasn’t sure why he had even asked her because they were already sitting now.

“I’m fine, I’m fine I just need a minute.” Her voice was half hidden behind his vest. What she need a minute for she wasn’t even sure, how she would feel better after a minute she didn’t know either. It had just seemed like the right thing she say, she was sure Daryl wasn’t even listening to her though.

Maggie had come back then, and the rest of the group following her inside. Daryl didn’t move sitting on the small sofa with her frame still curled into him. They talked for some time planning the details of the deal, how often they would come and get half the food. Half would come with them right now to ensure everyone was on the same page. Bit of the conversation registered with her, but it wasn’t important to her she didn’t waste must energy on it.

Every once in awhile, Daryl would shift his arm tightened around her as he spoke. Her brain would tune into his voice then.

“Every two weeks is good we ain’t greedy.”

A few murmurs of agreement from the group.

“It’s till we get on our feet, then we trade other things. Once the Saviours are gone, we work out a new deal.”

Saviours gone, those words stuck in her head. The images of the men on the bikes, the guns in her face, the heat of the explosion on her skin. Even as she pictured it they disappeared, leaving her with an emptiness in her chest. Like whatever energy she had left was fleeting at best.

Once the planning was finished everyone was move again.  
“I’ll get the RV. Stay.”

Under her he shifted only a bit, then he went still again his arm still around her.

“Hey, hey, hey gotta get up now going home. Ahm gonna take you home.”

Around her the world pitched and shifted, under her feet the ground of suddenly solid. Eyelids heavy she struggled to keep them open. With the fleeting moments, she was able to see the darkening sky above her.

“Even Negan didn’t get this much up front.”

Daryl was passing Jesus now as he walked them to the RV and the other man walked away from it. Rick was stopping now speaking to the man she hurt from before.

“We’re gonna get Craig back. The only way to get Craig back is to bring them Gregory’s head.”

“How?” The man was speaking again, the one she kicked.

She didn’t know his name hadn’t heard it said yet. Daryl had stopped listening, she had pulled herself up straighter eyes open half hidden behind heavy locks of hair.

“We need to know what you know about Negan’s compound. We need your help.” A paused Rick put his hand on the man's shoulder “We need you to come.” 

A sigh and a glance in her direction, “Yeah okay.”

Moving again, up the steps inside the trailer. Daryl half carried half dragged her to the bed hiding in the back. Carefully he lay her down taking her boots up and allowing her to curl up against the pillows. Beside her the mattress dipped down with his weight. He moved close to her, she closed the distance rolling on her side towards him like a moth drawn to the flame.

“Ahm taking you home. Just like Ah said.”  
Blinking a few times she watched Jesus enter, then Michonne behind him soon they were moving and the motion of the tires under her lulled her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there is it! If you liked it let me know I love to hear from you. Also check me out on Tumblr at http://mytinykisses.tumblr.com/


	22. Change in the air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to take a longer break this time. My wonderful Beta reader is taking two weeks off, she will be back next weekend though. So my wonderful Fiancée offered to edit this chapter for me. That's exciting because she actually isn't even reading this story ( *gasp* I know) So here you go expect the next time to be on time. Promise.

They drove right through the night, everyone taking turns. There was some shifting movements under her at one point. She shut her eyes tightly, refusing to move when she felt it, fearing this was a dream inside another dream type thing.  She shifted slightly, the warm solid mass under her leaving, head being lifted into the air.

“Thank ya.”

The voice came from somewhere around her, in front of her maybe but still she refused to open her eyes. This could be a nightmare- they had looked like this before. She would open her eyes and it would be the wolves camp and they would have their hands on her. Involuntarily, her body stiffened.

“No problem, she slept the whole time.”

The air around her was cold, hold on her head not as strong as before. Then a new mass was under her, warm, solid, and smelling familiar.  

“Ya, well thank ya.” It was Daryl, now he was moving under her shifting his weight.

Blinking she shifted trying to sit up, he was faster though and stronger using his arm to pull her back down. With his feet he kicked the covers down under them, she allowed him to pull the covers over her.

“Ahm tired… if you’re still high yah need to sleep it off too.”

“Daryl?”, she whispered shifting on her side to entangle herself with him.

“Sleep.”

And she did.

She found herself awake in the middle of the deep night. Beside her Daryl still slept, breathing deep and even. Extracting herself from the bed proved to be harder than she thought. Some time in the night she had wrapped herself around him, left hand tucked into the small space between his back and the mattress.

Relaxing she let herself ease back into the mattress, maybe she should stay. It was nice here, warm, safe, the same. Her and Daryl sleeping this way was something that always happened. She watched the rapid movement of his eye under his lids as she continue to lay beside him.

A noise from the front of the RV drew her attention. Someone was awake and driving, obviously. Holding her breath, she pulled her hand out from under him trying to move as little as possible. Breath still held she waited counting to ten in her head. When she was sure he wasn’t moving she slipped away from the bed.

Around her everyone else was sleeping, save for Abraham who was leaning back eyes watching the darkness outside. he paid her no mind unmoving as she passed him. In the passenger seat she heard someone shift, Rick poked his head around.

“Taking the bed,” he whispered patting her gently on the shoulder.

As he passed her she slipped into the seat he had just left pulling her knees up into her chest. It wasn’t until she turned that she realized it was Jesus in the driver’s seat. In that split second she wished she could crawl back into the bed with Daryl and go back to sleep. It was too late for that, Rick had already claimed the spot she left open, which left her here with Jesus.

“Hey,” Jesus glanced over at her.

Pandora glanced at him from the corner of eye. How long had it been since her Xanax? Eight hours maybe? Average run time was 11 maybe 12 since she didn’t take them often. Throwing her caution to the wind she decided to give this conversation a try.

“Hi,” it came out easier than she thought it would, so easy that in fact she shocked even herself.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked casually.

A sigh escaped her, nerves bubbling up again she tried to push them down. Nails bite into the soft flesh of her hands, the pain sending little lightening bolts up her arms. It cleared the fog of the nerves for a second.

“I don’t sleep,” she answered opening and closing her fingers again letting them bite deeper into her flesh.

“Ah, a common problem these days.”

Turning her head to the side she watched him openly, like it was a common problem to wake up screaming from nightmares remembering the men who raped you, remembering the men who tried to kill you. She considered leaving now, remembering her people skills were not up to par these days.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m a basket case in case you haven’t noticed.”

He didn’t answer, only kept steering them on the road home. The time passed in silence from then on, occasionally she would glance over at him. He didn’t try to talk to her again, it made her feel uncomfortable. The long stretching of silence from a man who almost never stopped talking.

“Thank you for showing me the look out,” she blurted. Her head rested on the tops of her knees watching him. Breaking the awkward silence was easier than she thought, the nerves of starting a conversation creeping up on her again. “Sorry I freaked the fuck out. I’m not good with strangers, or touching, or anything different really.”

“I hope I won’t be a stranger for much longer.”

Despite herself she laughed the small sound trickling its way past her part lips. With her fingers, she tried to clear some of the hair from her eyes suddenly needing a clear picture of his face for memory. Head lifted she stared at him, really stared at him. He was clean shaven, beard trimmed clean. His eyes gained the most attention, they were bright and soft. Something about these eyes seemed untouched by any of this ugliness in their new world.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, sunlight breaking through the cloud cover. After an unknown amount of time Rick appeared behind her again. This time Jesus pulled over the RV allowing a washroom break and for Rick to take the wheel.

When they stopped, she slipped out with everyone else. Heading deeper into the woods to relieve the growing pressure on her bladder. When she was finished, she made her way back to the RV. Everyone was outside snacking on some of the fruit that had made it back with them.

Daryl was leaning on the side of the RV, cigarette hanging from his lips, two apples in one hand. As she stepped closer to him he tossed one of the apples at her, she caught it no problem.  Slipping up beside him the apple was gone in under five minutes, passing her a second one before she could even ask. The second one she took longer to eat, savoring it, it had been a long time since she put anything fresh in her mouth.

“Ya got something right here.”

Fingers touched her chin wiping away the thin line of juice making its way down her face. Opening her eyes Daryl was standing in front of her wiping his finger on the rag he always seemed to carry. Heat coiled deep in her belly as she held his gaze for a few heart beats.

“Thanks,” turning away she tossed the apple in the grass on the other side of the road. Around her everyone appeared to be getting ready to load back onto the RV. Glancing at Daryl she slipped back inside before everyone, taking her place at the back. It was going to be another long day, she could feel it deep in her bones, best to have some time alone. No one followed her back there, everyone even Daryl giving her space.

Settling herself down on the floor, she curled her knees to her chest listening to the conversations around her. The ride back to Alexandria was rather quick, before long they were pulling through the gate, Sasha greeting them, asking if they had found food.

Somewhere she heard Rick calling for a meeting in the church. She tried to stay and listen but Daryl was pulling her along back to the house. Passing them she heard running footsteps.

“Oh, thank god she’s with you, let me get the door.” It was Carol’s voice coming from somewhere ahead of them.

Only then did she realize her eyes were closed frame leaning heavily on Daryl as she walked. When did that happen, wasn’t she awake just moments ago? Somehow now everything was heavy as if she had weight strapped to her ankles and wrists.

“Thanks, drugs making her sleep.”

Pandora wasn’t sure if he was right, the meds had been taken hours ago, yesterday even if her count was right. This was a different kind of tired, the kind that came from a day that was too long. Everything around her seemed to be slowing down again, and she struggled to get her limbs to obey her.

Before she knew it, she was laying down in her bed hands pulling at her boots. The blankets were pulled over her, pants still on, but hands pulled at her heavy sweater and t-shirt. She was left curled under the blankets in her jeans and a tank top. Dimly she heard the tail end of a conversation between Daryl and Carol.

“The meeting is about this deal we made.”  

“So, you’re going?”

“Yah, she’ll sleep.”

“I’ll come check on her after.”

They had stopped talking now but she was aware of them watching her as she drifted off into sleep.

The next time she opened her eyes the bright midday sun was streaming into her room. Every muscle in her body ached, she must have been tired, she couldn’t even remember the last time she slept like that. Slowly she stretched herself out getting a range of movement back in all her limbs. Pulling herself from the bed she stripped off the jeans and replaced them with sweatpants, and a loose t-shirt over her tank.

 

In the bathroom the harsh light made her like one of the dead herself. Purple bruises marked the space under her eyes. Her face was still hollow but she had put on more weight in the last few weeks. She looked tired, sleep didn’t always equal rest these days. Sighing, she tugged a hair tie off her wrist to pull her hair from her eyes.

In the kitchen she found Carol standing at her stove stirring something in a pot. Under her the floor squeaked as she stepped, Carol turned.

“Oh hi,” Carol glanced over her shoulder. “I wasn’t sure how long you would sleep for.”

For a split second she thought about turning around and heading back to her room. The guilt curled inside her gut, Carol was supposed to check in on her. She would have come to her house and found her missing. What might that have been like? Did she look for her, she wondered, turn Alexandria upside down in her search? She hadn’t even thought about Carol for one second, hadn’t thought about the people here who would have been keeping an eye on her. It was that train of thought that made her continue her walk into the kitchen.

Slipping into the stool beside the island she folded her arms resting them against the counter, watching, “How long?”

“Five hours maybe,” Carol answered spooning some soup into a bowl, placing it in front of her, and another for herself sitting across the island from the young woman. A few long moments of silence ticked by, as they both ate. “We’ll have to fight.”

“We always have to fight,” Pandora answered spooning some food into her mouth. “That’s just the way that it is now.”

It was the same with her still, every day she fought and again every night. Some nights when she woke up screaming covered in sweat she was sure she would be fighting her entire life. When Pandora looked up something flashed across Carol’s face, a pained look.

“I never thanked you for before, for saving this place.” A change in subject seemed like the right thing to do here. There was something about the talk of fighting that created a far off look in Carol’s eyes. Pandora looked away, she was not a fan of seeing some of her own traits reflected so clearly in others.

“I know Morgan tried to save one of them,” she was tripping over her thoughts now, thinking about them inside the walls always did that too her.  She had been holding this in for so long though, since Daryl had told her what Carol had done. No one else knew, he stressed that she had told him in confidence, and he had trusted Pandora with that secret. They had never had a moment alone to speak about it, until now.

“Daryl told me you killed him, that you knew he was a monster.” He was a monster she knew it, he was the monster who haunted her dreams almost every night. The monster who sometimes appeared to her in the daytime, his face replacing the faces of her friends. Voice nothing but a thin whisper now she went on. “He was a monster, Carol.”

She choked on the last word the woman’s name slipping from her mouth along with a quiet sob. Maybe she was still tired, maybe she had been holding this thank you in for too long. Maybe she would never know, sometimes the tears just came uninvited.

Had she ever really cried over what had happened to her? Sure, she had panicked, had flash backs, got lost in the memories when triggered but had she ever cried for what she had lost at their hands? She couldn’t be quite sure, but she was sure as hell crying now. Crying for everything that had been taken from her, the parts of herself she was sure she was never going to get back. Crying for the woman she had been before all this happened.

Carol was in front of her then, arms around her holding Pandora tight to her chest. At first the pressure made her stiffen, but Carol rubbed slow circles on her back making calming sounds.

“We protect our own Pandora, you are family.”

That only made her cry harder, salty tears soaking the Carol’s floral shirt. She didn’t seem to mind though, she held her even tighter still. It didn’t take long before the well of tears she had dried up. Still even after a few dry sobs spilled out, Carol held onto her. It wasn’t until her breathing had somewhat returned to normal that she let her go.

With her hands gripping her shoulders Carol pulled away, piercing blue eyes locked with her own.

“You understand why you can’t tell anyone about that?”

Pandora nodded. It had been hard to look at Denise the same way at first she began to think. She had tried to understand what would make Denise save someone like him, someone who had done that to her. Denise was a doctor though, she had to help everyone, even a monster like him.

“I won’t say anything.” She whispered.

“Good girl.” Carol was turning then collecting the empty bowl and cleaning the rest of the dishes she had made.

Pandora sat watching her, trying to take the image of the woman she saw here in the kitchen and imagine the woman who had dressed like a wolf and killed all of them. The two didn’t seem to match at all. The Carol in front of her humming and washing dishes in a floral print shirt didn’t seem like the woman who welded a knife with the skill to match Daryl.

When Carol was finished washing, Pandora slipped off her stool to dry and put them away. Together the kitchen was clean in no time.

“I should get going, get some things ready before tomorrow.”

“It’s tomorrow?” Pandora asked hands tightening into fists at her sides.

“Ya we leave in the morning.”

Nodding, Carol dried her hands on the dish towel before returning it. “He’s with Rick and everyone else, and the guy they brought back, Andy. They’re meeting in the new house on the next street.” Before Carol opened the front door, she turned again, “Do you need anything else before I go?”

“No, thank you for the soup.”

Nodding, the other women left shutting the door behind her. For a few long heartbeats she didn’t move, just stood there. Tomorrow, they were all leaving tomorrow. Fear crawled up inside her, making a home deep in her belly. A slight tremor ran up her arms, she was scared. No, that wasn’t the right word to describe the current storm in her head, she was terrified. She had seen Negan’s men, they were dangerous, they were cruel.

‘This group is dangerous; your people are dangerous,’ she thought to herself dimly.  Stepping towards the front window she looked outside, the sun was still high mid to late afternoon maybe, she really should get a watch.

Suddenly feeling the dirt of the day on her she headed for the shower and a fresh pair of clothes. Maybe it would help any panic she felt creeping up on her now. The bathroom was her favorite place, the only real place she always felt grounded.  In the bathroom she left the door unlocked, Daryl was sometimes known to panic when he didn’t see her the moment he stepped inside. Sometimes he would pop his head in the bathroom to make sure she was there.

Under the hot water of the shower everything relaxed, tension bleeding from inside her muscles washing down the drain with the water.  She took her time now in here, knowing his meeting would take long. Fingers working the shampoo through heavy brown locks, the act made her arms tired. Since she had come here her hair had grown out down to her mid back in loose waves. It was a very impractical length, but she wasn’t sure anyone here knew how to cut hair.  

When she had conditioned and rinsed her hair she stood in front of the mirror naked. Her frame was a sad thin skeleton of what she once remembered. The bruising and damage from her recent adventures were all but faded, leaving her caramel skin almost unmarked.  Dressed now in black tights and a long sleeved pink V-neck she made her way back into the bathroom to work on the mess that was her hair. In the mirror the changes in her face were always clear, she had rounded out, bags under her eyes slowly fading. The marks on her neck had healed some time ago, leaving no trace they were ever there.

In the living room she debated going out to find him. She was sure he would come back, he had to sleep at some point. Waiting she decided would be best, besides she wondered if Andy was still bitter about the kick to his ribs.

Curling up on the sofa she pulled the knit blanket over her legs and picked up the rape recovery book she had been reading. While she read, the sky changed colours outside going from blue to orange and deep purple with the setting of the sun. Four chapters later, the front door opened and the heavy foot falls gave way to who it was before he spoke.

“Pandora?” he stepped into the living room stopping at the door when he saw her.

“Hey,” closing the book she set it back on the small table in front of her. “Carol left you some soup in the fridge.”

Grunting something he turned, going to the kitchen she guessed. When he came back he held the plastic container and a spoon. Thankful he had taken off his boots before settling down on the couch beside her. Tucking her legs under herself she watched him, under five minutes the soup was gone and he was putting the now empty container back on the table.

“You good?” he asked leaning against the back of the sofa peering at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Ya, Carol was really nice.”

“Ya like her now?”

Sighing, Pandora shifted, balling the blanket up in her hands. “I didn’t really not like her, she was just I don’t know. It’s different now that I know her.”

Nodding, Daryl rubbed his hands over his face, closing his eyes for a long minute.

“She said you’re leaving tomorrow.”

At first the statement was met with silence, then he opened his eyes to look right at her.

“Yah, you comin’?”

Despite herself she laughed closing the distance between them curling next to him.

“I think I have had my share of adventure this week,” she muttered resting her head on his arm. Under her he shifted lifting his arm so that she was resting against his side, arm around her shoulders.

“Aight.”

They stayed like that for a while, Pandora tucked into his side leeching the warmth from his skin. It was so comfortable, he always had that effect on her. The stillness that always seemed to surround him made her feel calm.

“Ah should get some sleep before tomorrow.”

“I just got up. I wanted to go say goodbye to Tara.”

He chuckled before lifting himself from the sofa. “Stay up then, go see em.”

“Yes sir.” She laughed saluting him as he headed up to his room. When he disappeared from her sight she got up and headed towards Denise’s house.

Outside the front porch light was still on but the inside appeared dark. Pausing for a second she tried to peek inside, but she couldn’t see anything. Finally, she knocked gently, if they were awake they would hear it, if not it wouldn’t wake them.

The door opened just as she was about to turn away. Denise was there smiling like always.

“Everything ok?” she asked pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose.

“Ya I just wanted to say goodbye to Tara.”

The smile grew wider and Denise stepped aside letting her step in. Tara was in the living room laying back on the couch feet up on the coffee table.    

“Hey Pandora, we were just about to watch a movie, want to join us?” Tara moved the blankets that were resting on the space of the sofa beside her.

Unmoving in the opening of the room Pandora shook her head. “No, it’s ok, I just wanted to wish you luck.”

Denise came up behind her placing a bowl of popcorn and a mug of steaming hot chocolate in her hands.

“At least finish that before you go,” passing her Denise settled into the spot beside Tara throwing a blanket over their legs.

Brown eyes flickered down to the food in her hands, it would be such a shame to let it all go to waste. With slow movement, she slid down onto the sofa tucking her legs under her as she took a sip of the steaming mug. Warm chocolate liquid filled her mouth, eyes closing she savored it. Beside her she heard Tara chuckle lightly, opening one eye Pandora glared at her.

“What, no shame, hot chocolate is a premium item these days,” Tara said, the chuckle still clear in her voice. “Go ahead Denise we’re ready.”

“What are we watching?” Pandora asked in between mouthfuls of buttery popcorn.

“The first Avengers movie, newest one we have.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Let me know in the comments!


	23. The Domino Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Monday post yo! Still reeling from the season finale over here don't know about you guys. I also realized I am a full season behind with this story and I want to catch up, so basically I'll be writing forever lol. Which I don't mind because I'm having a blast.   
> Trigger warning for this chapter for sure. Pandora dreams about her attackers things get a little detailed. You have been warned. Id love to hear what you think send me some love!

If she was honest with herself, the movie was too much for her. When they were midway through, all the different characters and action had made it too hard for her to concentrate. The bright lights, loud sounds and screaming was too much, it caused a pounding behind her eyes. So, she had spent most of the evening nursing her hot chocolate and trying to look like she was paying attention. 

As the final credits rolled across the screen, Pandora hauled herself up and collected the dirty dishes to take them to the sink. Movement was better as it dulled the pounding in her skull and helped her concentrate. In the middle of washing, Denise appeared on the opposite side of the counter, leaning on her elbows watching her. 

“Did you like the movie?” She asked, her tone causal and brows raised. 

Pandora placed the last bowl into the drying rack and wiped her hands on the tea towel. “Ya, I thought it was good.” The lie was easy, easier than it should be considering this was her doctor she was talking to. 

“I love Peggy, what about you? Bucky more your type?” A half smile played on Denise’s lips. 

A hot flush crept up Pandora’s neck, making its way up to her face. She opened her mouth fully planning on having something to say but there was nothing. She couldn’t even picture the characters Denise had been talking about. She had been caught, anyone else would have let it slide but something in Denise’s face said she knew more than Pandora wished she did. 

“You couldn’t watch it, could you?” Denise asked, the smile slipping from her face. 

“No,” The one word answer came after a long pause. “I don’t know, it was hurting my eyes and my brain.” 

“You may have a concussion; the effects can last a long time. Since we don’t watch many movies around here, it wasn’t noticeable.” 

Pandora only sighed, rubbing her hands over eyes. Her hands shook as she pulled the hair from her eyes. She hated admitting that the film had been too much for her. It had left her with the same feeling she got in the real life sometimes when everything is too loud or too fast. She was tired of this, she just wanted to be better. Whatever the fuck better even looked like at this point. It was always something new, whether it be a physical injury or an emotional one.

Denise had slipped up beside her now to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Pandora, it’s ok you are doing great.” 

Pandora only nodded, biting the inside of her cheek hard. Were all her emotions too plain on her face? Or was everyone here a mind reader? The room was too small, and she was done talking about how well she appeared to be. Turning, she withdrew back into the living room where Tara was still spread out on the sofa. Plopping herself down beside her, Pandora wrapped her arms around Tara’s shoulders to trap her in a bone crushing hug. 

“Come back in one piece ok?” Pandora whispered, pressing her face into the hollow of the other woman’s neck. 

Tara only laughed, wrapping her arms around her and matching the pressure of her hug. “Promise you watch out for my girl ok?” 

Over the months, she had grown close to Tara as her easy-going personality and charm always seemed to have a calming effect on her. A few times she had been the only one who had been calm enough to help Pandora breathe through her panic attacks. In the days leading up to Tara leaving for the two-week run, Pandora had become increasingly stressed. She knew what was outside the walls, it was dangerous; everything that wasn’t within these walls was dangerous. Two people did not seem like enough to stay safe out there. 

After a few silent moments of hugging, they separated. 

“I’m coming back Pandora, I’m leaving something important behind.” Pandora watched Tara gaze over her shoulder. 

Turning, she followed Tara’s gaze to Denise putting away the dishes in the kitchen. A small smile tugged at her lips, they were so perfect together. The way that Tara looked at Denise was something that wasn’t seen often these days. 

With a sigh, she hoisted herself up from the sofa, smoothing down her shirt, “I should go, Daryl might be worried.” 

Tara turned back to her smiling, “I’ll see you in two weeks Pandora.” 

Heading towards the door, Pandora found Denise already waiting for her holding it open. “Come and find me tomorrow afternoon, we will have a session.” 

Pandora nodded and squeezed the others woman’s arm before turning and heading down the street. The moment the sound of the door clicked behind her she stopped mid step, titling her head up and breathing in deep and taking a lungful of the cool night air. Exhaustion pulled at the edges of her brain, thoughts becoming a slow jumbled mess. She would sleep tonight, but for how long? That was for the universe to decide. 

At the end of the street near her house, the sounds of raised voices drew her attention so she moved in that direction.Passing Rick’s house, all the lights were out and no sound was coming from inside. Beside Rick’s house was the one that Carol and Sasha shared, it was also silent but the front light was on. This struck her as odd, who was walking around out here in the middle of the night?

The answer to the question of who was yelling was answered when Abraham stormed out of his house. Before he closed the door, sounds of Rosita’s harsh raised voice drifted out into the night. She paused as she was mid-step, openly gaping at him. 

“Abraham?” Her voice was quiet, as if being too loud could wake everyone. 

He stopped just as he was halfway up the stairs to Sasha’s house with his hand reaching out to touch the door knob, “Go home kid,” he grunted before disappearing inside. 

She didn’t right away, for a while she stood there trying to understand what might have happened. The cold, gruff tone of his voice was not one usually directed at her. All she had was snippets of information, not enough to form a whole picture. Maybe they got into a fight, Abraham and Rosita, she knew it happened sometimes, but why leave? And why to Sasha’s and not to Rick’s or to their house instead? She wanted to ask, wanted to knock on the door and demand an answer because unknowns did not sit well with her. Frustrated, she turned tugging tired legs up the front steps. 

Before she even opened the front door, she slipped her boots off and left them outside. No need to wake Daryl up with the sound of her heavy foot falls. Carefully, she opened the door only a crack, slipping inside a gap just wide enough to fit her frame. Hand on the door knob, she eased it open and closed it softly hearing the click behind her. 

“You see him?"

Pandora jumped, hands fluttering up to her mouth to cut-off the sound of surprise. Blinking, she could see Daryl at the window dimly outlined by the light outside. 

“See who?” 

“Abraham.” He said, rubbing his hand over his mouth before turning back to the window. She slipped up beside him, tucking her frame next to him. 

“Ya, what happened?” She whispered, squinting her eyes to peer out into the dimly lit street. 

“I dunno, shit ain’t settled.” Blue eyes glanced down at her, holding her eyes for a few seconds. “Come on, come to bed.” 

“No.” She was cold suddenly, all too aware of what was waiting for her behind her closed lids. Despite the ache of exhaustion she was suddenly too scared to sleep. Nerves were strung up tight, she knew that alone with her thoughts was no place to be. She wondered if he could see it since after all this time he could read her like a book. He could read her better now with every day that passed, not that she was ever good at keeping her thoughts off her face. 

“Come with me then,” When he looked down at her something flitted across his face, caution? Worry? She thought about arguing with him but the idea of his warm bed was a nice one. She hated sleeping alone, as fucked up as that was, alone in her bed everything seemed worse. 

Daryl tugged her up the stairs, pulling her in the direction of his room. The sheets and blankets were already ruffed, he had already been in bed but the shouting must have woken him. Easing her down to sit on the edge, he started helping her out of her boots and sweater. The bed was still warm as she slipped under the covers and Daryl slipped in beside her. She turned, facing him. 

Their eyes locked then, she felt the heat of his gaze mixing with the heat creeping up her neck. She could have sworn she saw him inch closer to her. Reaching out, she lay her open palm on his chest, his heartbeat steady under her hand. Staring down at her hand, the moment shattered and he turned to lay on his back, tucking his hands under his head. The silence stretched out around them, she thought he was falling asleep. 

“Yah can come, stay in the RV to keep watch.” His voice was pitched low, cutting through the surrounding stillness. 

In the darkness, she tried to make out the expression on his face to try to read the meaning in his words. But he had titled his face up, hiding it deeper in shadow. 

“What if something happens?” 

“Ah deal with it,” His answer was quick, as if it was so obvious that she shouldn’t even need to ask. “Ah don’t like leaving ya behind.” 

Smiling into the darkness, she slipped up beside him, resting her head on his chest. “I’m working really hard at taking care of myself, but I always appreciate your concern.”

His sigh vibrated deep in her bones, “Aight go to sleep then before Ah kick you outta my bed.” 

Again, she smiled, making no move to answer she shut her eyes and started drifting off to sleep. 

In the darkness of her dreams, her panic caught up with her, choking off her air and making it hard to think. At first, she was sure she was running since she felt it so clearly. Wind whipping past her face, bits of twigs and branches scratching her skin and sticking in her hair. 

Then the scene was gone and there were hands on her legs, dirty fingers leaving streaks on her inner thighs. She tried to scream, but the darkness swallowed it. That didn’t stop her from trying to scream, legs kicking hard and connecting with soft flesh. Under her, she could feel the forest floor, pine needles and twigs digging into her skin. It was so real, everything felt so real, maybe this was real and everything else was the dream. It didn’t matter though since she fought like always. Pitching her body upwards, she kicked again, sending the form on top of her flying off, but there was more. There was always more. Hands holding her legs down now as she struggled, fingers pressed between her legs, blunt edges forcing themselves into her. Something snapped in her head and the scream she finally let out ripped past whatever had been holding her silent. Around her, the scream seemed to shatter the surrounding images, causing the scene of the dream to change. 

It was dark and warmer now than it had been, but when she blinked she could see only darkness. A quick jerk of her legs proved that she was free to move them, but something held her arms pinned down over her head. Still screaming, she tried to pull away and tried to slip her wrists free from their hold. 

“Please, please, please.” She begged hysterically, shoving at the figure looming over her in the shadows. Pitching her small frame upwards, she tried to wiggle free to push against the hands on her wrists. 

“Pandora! Pandora!” The figure above her called her name over and over. She didn’t stop though, couldn’t stop because if she stopped fighting that was the end. “It’s me! Pandora! It’s Daryl!” 

He was shouting now, trying to make himself heard over her screaming. In a flash, he was off of her, light filling every dark corner of the room. The second the weight lifted, she was running or trying to run. The sheet caught on her foot, twisting it and sending her down to the floor face first.It didn’t stop her frantic movements, pulling the blanket along with her, she tucked herself into a corner of the room.Sobs shuttered through her, choking and gasping she pulled her knees to her chest. 

In the light, everything made sense. In the light, she was in Alexandria in Daryl’s room with him trying to calm her down. In the light, she could understand the difference between her dreams and her reality, but in the dark, it had all been the same. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Her new mantra choked its way out through sobs. 

The front door banged open, “Daryl?!” Rick’s shout from downstairs was laced with alarm. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Pandora continued to sob in the corner attempting to curl into herself. 

“Fuck,” She had shut her eyes, but she listened to Daryl moving away from her and heading out of the room. “It’s aight, Pandora had a nightmare.” 

Rick said something she didn’t catch next, Daryl replied but, again she didn’t hear it. The sound of her own sobbing filled the surrounding space. She twisted her fingers deep inside her wet locks, tugging until it hurt. 

Every day had been different, even better but every night seemed worse. She had nightmares all the time, but when she woke up and they were over she knew where she was. This time was different. She hadn’t known Daryl, he had worn the face of her rapists. A shudder ripped through her and she dug her nails into the sides of her legs, struggling for a sense of calm. It didn’t come. Instead, she sat curled into a ball in the corner until the sobs had died down.

“Bad one, like when Ah first found her.” 

“Want me to get the Doc?” 

“Naw Ah got it, thanks.” 

“I can stay for a while if you need a hand.” 

“Naw it's ok man get some sleep.”

The rest of the conversation moved out of her range of hearing. How long she had stayed there, she wasn’t sure as she was lost somewhere in the tangled thoughts of her brain. She breathed in deeply, counting to five with each breath in and out. Daryl’s heavy foot falls sounded in the room again. Stiffening, she forced her eyes open to look at him. 

“Hey,” He eased down in front of her, kneeling with his palms out in front of him. “Lemme help you up.” 

He reached for her then, grip tight on her shoulder to pull her into a standing position before lowering her back down onto the side of the bed. Every nerve on fire, limbs refusing to respond to even her most basic command. She tried to get her legs to move, tried to lift them up onto the bed, but as she stared down at them they didn’t move. 

“Pan?” Daryl’s voice sounded out, cutting through her fog. 

When she looked up, he was standing in front of her holding a mug of steaming liquid. 

“Here, drink.” 

He held the mug out in front of her, blinking, she lifted her hands to take it. Finally, they answered her demand for movement this time. It smelled like green tea and she really did want it, but trying to get her hands to work with her brain past holding the mug wasn’t really happening. 

Daryl must have noticed her struggle because he reached over and took it from her, placing it on the small table beside the bed. Wistfully, she eyed the warm drink missing the solid warmth in her hands. 

Glancing up at him, she noticed the fleck of dried blood under his nose. Now her hands moved of their own accord, reaching out to wipe the dried bit away, thumb tracing his chin. His mouth was moving she was sure of it, but nothing seemed to reach her ears. Head titled to the side, she watched him talk to try to make out the words. 

“Daryl,” She whispered, tears pooling in her vision again creating warm hot tracks down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” 

His eyes were hard then, mouth drawn into a thin line. In the next moment, he was on the bed beside her, pulling her into him in a tight hold. For a second, her whole body went stiff with the contact, but it was Daryl and in the light, he no longer wore the faces of rapists. 

“Ain’t your fault ya know that, Ah know that.” His words reached her now, pressure from the hug grounded her, keeping her present. 

“I saw them, it was you but I saw them.” 

“Ah know.” 

He didn’t let her go and she didn’t mind either as she was still on edge. He kept talking to her though most of it she didn’t comprehend it all, she let the rumble of his voice calm her down. What calm even looked like after something like that she wasn’t sure, she would settle with just not crying. 

When her tears stopped, the sun was peeking through the clouds outside. It was morning. They had sat like that for the rest of the night. Her curled into his side with his arms around her. Her mind still wandered, somewhat in quick flashes with images from the nightmares playing behind her eyes. The pressure and warmth of Daryl beside her reminded her where she was. She turned her head to glance out the window, morning light was streaking the sky above them. 

“Yah wanna talk?” He muttered into the side of her head. He must have taken her movement as an indication that she was ready for conversation. 

Against him, she shook her head as she was unable to find the right words, instead absently playing with the helm of his shirt. Everything was still too jumbled, still too fresh. She wasn’t ready to tell him about the nightmares, tell him how real it felt. 

“Yah gonna try to sleep again?” 

His question was met with another shake of her head, he sighed, arms tightening around her for a moment. Downstairs, the front door opened and someone started stepping inside. 

“Daryl? Pandora?” Carol’s voice floated up from the main level of the house. 

His grip relaxed, arms falling away as he stood leaving her sitting alone in the bed. Hearing him descend the stairs, she silently moved to the door. Had everyone in Alexandria heard her screaming last night? Her answer came in the hushed voices from her kitchen. 

“Did you sleep?” 

There is the sound of movement in the kitchen, the opening of drawers, the sound of plates. Pandora slipped behind the door, peering out of the crack but she couldn’t make them out. Their voices did reach her from where she hid though, despite being tucked away. 

“Some, yah, been up since she got up.” 

“It was bad?” 

His sigh sounded all the way upstairs, heavy and tired. She imagined him running his hands over his face, his classic gesture. 

“Bad like before, when Ah first brought her here. She wasn’t really awake, thought I was them. Got me good in the face.” 

“Let me take a look.” 

There was the sounds of bodies moving, fabric against skin, shoes against the floor. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture what they were doing. They were quiet now though, conversation dying away as Carol inspected his face she guessed. She pictures Carol cleaning the rest of the dried blood from Daryl’s face. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“Bout what?” 

“About today, are you going to go or stay back?” 

Her heart tightened painfully in her chest, she longed to ask him to stay. Call it selfish, she didn’t give a shit; she wanted him here with her. Out there, out there was dangerous. Rationally, she knew it was for the greater good. These men, these saviours were dangerous, she had seen it first hand as they almost killed her. Still, she struggled with the idea of letting him go out there after them. She struggled with anyone leaving these walls, be it Daryl, Tara, or Rick. 

“Naw Ah gotta go, gotta see this through.” 

Her shoulders slumped slightly. She turned, heading out of the room into the hallway she looked over the railing catching Daryl’s eyes. His gaze stopped her, freezing her in the spot for a few long seconds. He was sitting on the stool, Carol at the sink rinsing a cloth. He opened his mouth like he was about to speak, but she turned away to head for the bathroom, shutting the door. 

Back pressed against the door, she allowed herself a moment to mourn the death of her fantasy of him staying behind. Then, she was moving slow, lumbering steps to the shower in hopes of washing any traces of her nightmares away. 

The mirror over the sink caught her eye as she passed, turning, she stared at her reflection. Light purple bruising marked the space under her eyes, the whites of her eyes were blood shot. Reaching out, she lay her hand against the cold glass of the mirror. Once she had been a pretty young woman with a full life and a bright future, and now what was she? A hollow shell of her former self, maybe not even a shell, she didn’t even resemble anything she used to be.

‘More sleep would help.’ She thought, leaning into her reflection. Her skin was a paler wash then usual. She ran her fingers over her reflection before letting them fall away. 

“Shower.” She told herself out-loud, like delivering the instructions would help. It did a little as she was on auto pilot moving through her shower. The water didn’t quite bring the sense of calm she was looking for. It only served as a reminder of her nightmares, each drop of water like fingers against her skin. She rushed out, grateful for it to be over. 

The towel she found was huge, falling all the way down past her knees. It was a good thing because the moment she stepped out of the washroom, Daryl was there, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. Stopping, she turned, eyes on the floor and fingers a death grip on the towel. 

“Carol brought food, come eat before Ah go.” 

Nodding, she rushed off to her room shutting the door behind her. They would have to talk about last night at some point. Thinking about it made her want to curl back underneath the blanket. Her nightmares hadn’t been that bad in a long time, not since the first month. She had been here for almost six now if she was counting right, it should be better by now. 

It would come up in therapy she thought as she pulled a pair of leggings from her drawer. Dressed, she tied her hair in a thick braid that hung dripping down her back. She didn’t bother with the mirror as she turned to leave, hating her reflection these days anyway. 

In the kitchen, Daryl sat at the island with two steaming plates. Sliding onto the stool beside him, she picked up the fork and began eating, couldn’t talk if your mouth was full. Daryl followed suit and for a few minutes they ate together in silence. 

“When do you leave?” 

“Soon” He answered, taking her now empty plate to the sink.

She had eaten fast, it had been a long time since she had something that good. Mixed fresh veggies with eggs, Carol must have brought it over when she had been here before. 

“About last night,” She muttered, a few strands of hair escaped her braid falling over her eyes. 

“Go see the Doc ok?” He was beside her then, a heavy hand falling on her shoulder. 

Reaching up, she placed her hand over his, resting her head against his arm. Hot tears pooled in her eyes threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. A slight tremble had made its home in her shoulders. 

Daryl must have felt it too, leaning over, he wrapped both arms around her now. She eased her head back on his shoulder as the tears came spilling down her cheeks onto her shirt. Everything was too much. Too new, too many people for her to cope with. Her world was changing too fast, and she was left running to catch up. 

“Ahm coming back, right? I always do.” 

It was suddenly so clear it shocked her, “This is going to change everything.” The words were whispered, voice pitched low. 

Daryl only chuckled, holding her just a bit tighter, “This ain’t gonna change shit, you’ll see.” 

She lay both her hands over his, turning to hide her face in his vest. They stayed like that until a knock on the door came, startling them both and shocking them away from each other. 

“Daryl?” Rick’s voice sounded from the other side of the front door. 

“Yah come on in.” Daryl was moving away from her before Rick stepped in. He moved around the house then, collecting his bow from the living room and gun from where he left it on the coffee table. Hurrying, she wiped the wet tracks off her cheeks with the back of her hand. Not that it mattered, everyone here knew she was a fucking mess at the best of times. 

Rick stepped in the front hallway ready to go, “We’re moving out, you ready?” 

“Yah man, let’s go.” 

Pandora stood, pushing the stool back in. Rick stepped into the kitchen eyeing her. 

“Rick?” She asked, titling her head to the side and eyeing him right back. 

“Ya?” 

“Thank you for coming to check on me last night.” Her fingers were in her hair again, twisting the loose strands. 

“It’s what we do.” He answered, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

His smile was like an infection as she smiled back him, a small one, but it was there tugging at her lips. 

“Come back in one piece.” 

Rick laughed, “We always do.” 

She stood on the front porch, cigarette hanging from her lips to watch them pile into different cars. That feeling of hopelessness stayed with her though, dread curling in the pit of her stomach. Daryl cast one more look at her before getting into a car with Carol. 

Turning away, she put the cigarette out and went to find Denise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew that was a long one! As always thanks to my Beta reader for putting up with me. Seriously she is amazing guys!!!


	24. Returned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy Maybe two weeks is my new thing? I was writing a chapter a week but now I'm slowing down a bit. I still have a few more chapters ready to go but still I'm closing in on myself! Here is our next instalment in our story. Hope you enjoy. As always let me know what you think. Find me on tumblr at http://mytinykisses.tumblr.com/

Chapter 24

Denise was in medical like always, but the moment Pandora stepped through the door they continued into a more private room. Denise sat down in the plusher of the two chairs while Pandora lowered herself into the other one. This room felt warmer than the one they had just been in, Pandora found herself uncoiling some of her tight muscles.

“I’m sure everyone heard me lose my shit last.” Pandore commented off handedly fingers twisting in her loose waves. 

Denise only opened her little notebook and got out her pen, “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Pandora shifted, tucking her legs under herself and hands curling around themselves in worried motions. “I woke up from a nightmare, only I didn’t know I was awake so I thought Daryl…” She stopped, letting the end of the sentence fall away. “I thought he was them…”  
She kept her eyes down though, unable to meet the eyes of the other woman. Her nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms, tiny lightning bolts of pain keeping her grounded.  Saying those words out loud were a trigger, in her mind’s eye she could see the woods now. She remembered how hard she had fought against him having no idea who he was.

 

“Pandora? You’ve been stressed these days, huh?”  
Pandora only nodded, tucking the loose bits of hair behind her ears. Stressed didn’t begin to describe it really. The two-week run Tara was leaving on had been planned for a while and the anxiety had gone up every day. The trip to Hilltop had been what started her on this slope.

“Pandora things change sometimes, it’s a part of life.”  
Denise’s voice stopped the train of thought before she got too deep into it. The other woman was leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees. Pandora wasn’t even sure what to say to her, she couldn’t explain what she was feeling inside right now. How does someone put that feeling of dread into words. She felt as if she was standing right on the edge of some new discovery some new event and she was terrified. That sounded crazy though, crazier than she usually sounded.

“I just know what’s out there” She whispered. “It’s not safe whenever anyone leaves, it bothers me.”

Denise nodded, pen scratching against paper. “How could you feel better?”  
Pandora thought about it, how could she feel better? Her mind wandered back to the training with Rosita that had helped her feel more in control.  Then the feeling of the gun in her hands, the cold metal against her fingertips.

“Defending myself, or knowing how to. That helps.”

“Good then we will get you to do more of that.” The Doctor’s smile was somewhat dazzling.

They talked for a while longer, Denise explaining that generalized anxiety was very common in individuals with PTSD. They talked about the scale system that had fallen to the side in the last few weeks or so. How she needed to start using it again to help everyone understand what she was going through.

When they were finished, Pandora headed back to the house but she didn’t plan to be there for long. Bounding up to her room, she changed into something she could work out in. It was a nice day, better to spend it outside getting a workout than inside worrying about when they would come back. Hair pulled up into a tight bun she went back outside in black tights and a green t-shirt hanging loose around her frame. Denise had said if it makes her feel better to do it, this would make her feel better. Pandora was almost sure Denise hadn't meant for her to work out right now, but she didn't care.

She started with a run around Alexandria, the burning in her lungs was becoming an old friend now. It only pushed her to go faster to see how far she could make it before she needed to stop. This time, her need to stop came after a lot longer but it had her bending over and holding her sides, struggling to pull in enough breath.

“Pandora?”

A voice had her raising arms from where they were still wrapped around her middle. Carl stood in front of her, Judith in the stroller in front of him.

“Hey Carl, Judith!” She was still gasping slightly, breathing a little ragged.

“Are you ok?” He was watching her with a hesitant expression on his face.

“Ya, I was running. Stopped to catch my breath.”

She smiled at him, leaning down to pat Judith on the head the little girl cooed at her, reaching chubby fingers out towards her.

Glancing up at Carl, she flashed him a half smile Judith still holding a death grip on her fingers. “I have to keep busy.” She volunteered offhandedly.

The boy only nodded, eyes locked on hers. He understood, she wasn’t sure how, but something in her eyes told her he knew what she was talking about.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later ok?”

She was gone then, pulling her finger from Judith and heading back down the street at a jog. She didn’t stop though, in their small private yard she worked the rest of her body. Push ups, squats, lunges, she did every exercise she could think of until she found herself dry heaving into the dying grass.

Rolling over onto her side, she lay panting in the grass with her eyes closed. Everything burned, everything ached. It didn’t matter though, every day was better and every day she could do more to push herself further. Whatever happened in her nightmares would never be her reality again.

She lay there until her muscles began to cramp from lack of use and her stomach screamed out for something to eat. Only then did she peel herself up from the ground and head back inside. Above her the sky was beginning to go dark.

In the kitchen, she found herself looking through the cupboard. There wasn’t much in there, she really needed to make a trip to the pantry and pick something up. She found a box of Kraft dinner and some tuna in the cupboards, she decided that they were going to have to do. 

When her steaming, hot bowl of Kraft dinner was made she turned in a circle around the kitchen. Right, she was alone tonight. For a second she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. The smell of the food and the growling in her stomach reminded her that she needed to eat.

Body sinking into the sofa, she ate by the light of the small side table lamp. It was unsettling being in the house alone. Everyone she would have gone to for company was gone. She tried thinking of who hadn’t gone, she knew Carl and Judith were a few houses down from her but that was it, the rest of her group was gone off on the same mission.

Washing the dishes, she looked outside. It was dark now, she had spent more time than she thought working out in the backyard.

“Tomorrow,” She said out loud to herself. “They will be back tomorrow.”

Alone with nothing else to do, she found herself in the bathroom shower, the water working to ease out the tightness in her muscles. Out, dried and dressed in a tank top and shorts, she slipped into bed hoping her mind and body were too tired to dream.

When she stirs, light streams into her room cutting through the darkness behind her lids. She knew that she had been right. She raises her arms over her head working out the knots that formed overnight. It was nice to get up and feel like she had rested for once. Rolling onto her side, she peered out the window to listen to the sounds of the morning.

The growling in her stomach was what finally forced her out of bed. Now that she didn’t spend so much time in her own head, her body was rather demanding. She found getting dressed hard, pulling on her pants was a nightmare with the tightness in her legs. She slipped a deep blue tank top over her sports bar, a t-shirt over that and a zip-up on top of that. She found herself wearing more clothes than she usually did as it stopped anyone from looking at her thin frame for too long.

When she headed into the kitchen, she ran the plan of the day over in her head. She had planned it beforehand as it helped her stay calm. She would eat first, clean up after, then sit at the watch tower until they all came back. It may seem like that second part was the hardest, the waiting, but it was what she needed to do first that proved to be the hardest. The watch tower called to her almost louder than the need for food called to her.

Standing in the kitchen, she had made the perfect choice: eating on the run. With two protein bars, an apple and a few peaches shoved in a bag on her back, she headed for her favorite place to watch. It was always the guard tower right at the gate where she liked to go. When she got  there, Holly was standing watch with a gun over her shoulder.

They nodded a good morning to each other as she climbed over the railing of the lookout and went to sit on the wall itself. Flipping the bag over to the front of her chest, she pulled out her on-the-run breakfast and dug in. At least when they came back she would be able to say she had done a great job at taking care of herself.

Hours passed, she was sure of it as the sun had moved to a mid-way point in the sky before she saw the first car. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she tried to see what was making all the noise. Behind the line of returning vehicles she saw the source of the sound, Daryl bringing up the rear on his bike.

She was down off the wall in seconds. This time, she went right off the front by tucking and rolling to land on her feet on the outside of the wall. The bag had moved back to her back now and she was running for him. She caught a few looks from the people in the car but no one stopped her, they knew better then that.

The moment he saw her he stopped, putting his feet down and leaning the bike on the kick stand. He was stopped and she was slipping up on the back of the bike with her frame pressed to him tightly.

“Take me for a ride?” She whispered in his ear, wrapping her arms around his middle.

He didn’t answer, only kicked the kick-stand up and started the bike again. He turned around, leaving the line of cars entering Alexandra behind them. The speed picked up around them and the once nicely formed trees were now green blurs moving past her. Her arms tightened around him as the speed increased. She didn’t even have time to wonder where he might be taking her, they were just gone. Ripping past homes until there was almost nothing but forest around them.

After what felt like a long time, she felt the rumble of the bike slow under her and before she knew it, they were stopped and he was helping her off the bike. Her arms were tight around him the second her feet touched the ground. He held her back just as tightly, if not tighter. She could swear she felt a slight shake in his shoulders as he pressed himself against her.

“It’s over?” She questioned, leaning her head back enough to speak. It didn’t last long as he was holding her close again.

“Yah it’s done.”

Despite the warmth that being enclosed in his arms provided, she pulled away to put her hands on his upper arms and look at him. There was something wrong, something different on his face. She was frantic for a second, eyes searching him for a sign of anything she might have missed.

“What happened?” Voice pitched high with panic, she ran her arms over his arms and chest. “Were you bit? Was someone hurt?”

“No, no.” His hands found her wrists, stopping the exploration she was taking of his body. “Nothing like that, Pan.”

“Then what?”

He made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a grunt before reaching into his back pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Sticking two in his mouth, he lit them both, handing the second one to her without asking. Taking a long drag, she watched him ease himself down onto the grass at the side of the road. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she finally joined him on the ground.

Low-level anxiety thrummed through her now, they were outside just sitting in the open. Flicking the end of her cigarette, her other hand ran over the handle on her knife that now never left her belt.

“We got in, cleared it out, no one got hurt,” Daryl muttered, eyes staring off into the distance. “We were about to head home then some asshole tried to get away on my fucking bike. Ah stopped him, then someone called on the radio he had.”

Pandora glanced over at him from the corner of her eye, she could see the torment on his face. Daryl usually wasn’t so easy to read, but today he was an open book.

“They had Carol and Maggie, some other assholes had found them before we got back.”

Understanding dawned on her then, they had taken Carol, that was why he was so worked up. In the last few days, there had been something different about Carol. She had become withdrawn, stopping by from time to time with food but never staying long. Leaning over, she flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette and rested her head on his shoulder. Her head was met with tightly coiled muscles ready to spring.

“They left a trail, Ah found them but by the time we got there Maggie and Carol had killed them all.” He stopped then to flick the cigarette across the road, a slight tremble in his fingers. “Its changing her, this world.”

Sighing, she pressed herself closer to him snaking her arm around his waist. She knew what he was talking about, she had seen something different in Carol’s eyes too. When they had talked a few days ago in the kitchen she had seen that far away look in Carol’s eyes.

“Ya, I’ve seen it.” She finally answered, head still pressed against him.

“Ah don’t know what to say to her, how to help.” His arm came around her then, warmth rolling off him in waves.

Pandora took a few seconds to enjoy the moment between them before answering. With a deep breath she said “Maybe she needs time, this world is hard.”

“She knows that!” He snapped and shut his eyes then, pinching the bridge of his nose hard.

“You can’t save everyone.” She whispered.

Beside her, Daryl only grunted and shifted just out of her view. Then he produced two more cigarettes and lit them, he was handing her one before she could say anything. They finished them together, each taking long, slow drags.

Pandora tilted her head up to stare at the mid-afternoon sky. It was warmer than she thought it was going to be as the sun was shining down and warming her skin. She was outside the walls. The excitement in seeing Daryl and the panic in thinking someone had been hurt hadn’t allowed her time to panic about where she was. Oddly, the memories of her morning workouts and training with Rosita gave her a measure of comfort.

“What number?” His voice was gruff, emotions thinly controlled.

“Two.” The number gives her a pause, she can’t remember the last time she had felt a two. Not outside of the walls that was for sure, but now sitting here, she felt nothing but calm.

Daryl’s answer was more of a sound rather than a word, but she didn’t mind since she knew what he meant. They sat there for a long time, silence stretching out around them. He still felt so stiff against her, she wanted to soften it so she tried to press herself closer. He was unresponsive and made no move to soften his edges.

“What else?” She asked, fingers tapping his arm lightly. At first it didn’t seem like he heard her but when her nails brushed the exposed skin of his wrist she watched him turn. His face was hard, mouth pressed into a thin line and eyes fixing on hers. Something shifted deep in her gut uncoiling and taking root somewhere inside her. Her fingers drew circles on the little patch of exposed skin she had found on his wrist.

“Yah would’ve been in the RV.” His voice was low as he said this. “When those motherfuckers rolled up on them you would have been in there, because Ah asked you to. They would have got yah, because of me.”

The revelation turned around in her brain, she tried to picture what might have happened then, tried to picture herself there. She couldn’t though, every time she tried, images of her waiting in Alexandria cut through. Sighing, she flicked her cigarette away since it had gone out a long time ago.

“I wasn’t there,” Sitting on her knees now she went behind him to put her head lightly on his shoulder blade. “I was waiting as safe as I could be inside the walls.” Turning her head, she pressed her lips against his vest, breathing in the deep scent of him: smoke, motor oil and blood. “You can’t blame yourself for something that didn’t even happen.”

“Ah was just thinking is all, it would have been mah fault.”

Unsure of how to answer him, she settled for tightening her arms around him. He reached up, placing his big hands over hers and sighed. She was warm again, not just on the outside from the heat that always seemed to come from within him but inside herself. A feeling bloomed in her chest as she lay her head to the side, ear pressed against his shoulder to listen to his heartbeat. It was while she was counting to the rhythm of his beat that he spoke.

“We should go back, don’t want the others to worry.”

Sighing, she knew he was right.  This moment seemed to perfect to end it she longed to stay right here. But, she thought about Carol, thought about the battles Carol was having in her head, and felt bad for keeping Daryl from her. Letting her arms fall away, she paused for a moment before she stood and started heading towards where they had left the bike. With her small frame and keen sense of balance she could get onto the back seat without the bike so much as quivering.

Daryl eyed her through the tiny slits of his eyes then got into the front seat and started it. Her fingers moved over the cool leather of the seat under her, she really had grown to like the rides they had begun taking again. Never too far, just a few minutes outside the gate and coming back. When he lost the bike, she had been in no shape to leave the walls but now everything was better.

Now, the feeling of the wind whipping past her was grounding. It was reminding her that she was here in this moment, rather than stuck in the past. As they rolled past the gates into Alexandria, Pandora leaned over Daryl’s shoulder to whisper in his ear.

“Go check on Carol, I’ll make dinner.”  She hopped off the bike before he could answer and headed right to the pantry. Despite all the time she had spent here, she had only come in a handful of times as all her neighbors were good at making sure they both stayed fed.

The door was open and Olivia was standing inside counting the new stuff they had brought in.

“Grab a basket and take what you need, you’re long overdue for a trip!”

Pandora only nodded, grabbing a basket and beginning to wander through the shelves. When she was done, she had some powdered milk, a box of cereal, trail mix, packages of miso soup and a handful of fresh veggies. As she was in the last aisle debating over an item, Olivia steps into her space.

“Come back whenever you need anything else ok?”

Pandora only nodded, slipping the box of granola bars in her basket before heading out.

It took no time to unload the stuff she had just gotten as they had a pretty bare kitchen. She went to work right away on dinner, heating the soup and starting the veggies. By the time Daryl came home, the big pot of vegetable miso soup was ready to eat. Not speaking, he lowered himself into one of the stools across from the stove.

Pandora already had a full bowl in hand by the time he was done getting comfortable. Taking her own bowl, she sat beside him.

“Hi,” She whispered around the spoon in the mouth.

Daryl hunched over the bowl and looked up at her with his spoon halfway to his mouth. She couldn’t help but smile at him and the sweet tired lines of his face. Still grinning, she went back to her own bowl. Two spoonfuls later he spoke to her.

“Ah checked on her.”

“And?”

“She says she’s alright.”

But he knows that she isn’t, that part is left hanging unsaid between them. Shifting, she keeps her eyes down on the bowl. She had seen Carol’s face when they had come back, she knew the other woman wasn’t okay. For now, that conversation took a backseat as they ate with their eyes down on their bowls.

“I’m glad you’re all back safe.” She finally whispered, spoon hitting the now empty bowl in front of her.

That got his attention. Looking up, the edge of his mouth turned up in a small smile. “Ah always come back.”

She took his bowl and her own to the sink. He was beside her though, pushing her to the side and turning the water on himself to wash the dishes.

“You don’t have to I can do it.”

“Nah Ahm good. Go to the sofa.”

Doing as she was told, she curled under the heavy blanket in the corner of the couch. In the kitchen, she heard him turning off the water and then he was sitting down beside her. His arm bumped her shoulder and she flinched slightly. He was so in tune with her that he was turning right away, pulling up her sleeve to check the area he had just hit. Along the top of her arm ran a dark purple bruise.

“The hell is this?” His voice had a sharp edge.

Shrugging him off her, she pulled her sleeve back down, “I was working out it must have happened then. Doc said if it helps, I should do it.” She stretched her arm out in front of her to tighten her fingers into a fist. “Being strong helps me feel better.”

He snorts, but starts to tell her more about the day then. About the things they had found in the base and how they were going to use it. They had quite a few guns so they would get added to the store they had now, the food would be taken into the pantry and used for everyone. Some time during his story she felt herself drifting off.

The next thing she remembered, she was being lifted gently and placed under warm covers. Blinking, she tried to clear the sleep from her eyes to see where she was.

“Go to sleep.” Someone is surrounding her, Daryl, his smell in the sheets and the warmth coming from his body. With a long deep sigh, she curls closer to him and drifts away.


	25. On the Mend

The next morning found them both in a tangle of limbs and sheets. Every moment, waking or sleeping, she found herself seeking his warmth. The sunlight started shining right into her eyes, leaving her sighing and turning deeper into his chest. She liked to pretend she didn’t know what she was doing, like maybe if he thought she was still sleeping he wouldn't mind her curling into him. He didn’t seem to mind at all, beside her he was still breathing deep and even.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she wandered where the line was drawn in their odd relationship. She slept in his bed, so what restrictions there were, if any, was unclear. She fit right into him with her tiny frame tucked under his arm. Her head rested on the mattress, inches from his chest. Fingers clutched the blanket over her, pulling it tighter against her frame. Her muscles screamed in protest at even the slightest movement she made.  The motion brought her fingers dangerously close to his chest, one inch closer and she would have brushed him. Hard muscle against the cool tips of her fingers. She considered it, if only for a second, she wondered what he would do. Slowly, her fingers crept towards him, but she stopped just short of his chest.

Since her face was so close she picked up the change in his breathing that meant he was already awake. Blinking a few times, she opened her eyes but refused to move. She was too warm, too relaxed and too interested by the thoughts of running her hands along his chest. The night had passed with no episodes, no waking up screaming, nothing. There had been flashes of nightmares, but they had easily slipped away. Daryl moved beside her so she pulled the covers over her head, turning away from him and curling back into a ball.

“Mornin’” His deep rumble found her where she was hiding under blankets.

“No.” She mumbled. Every part of her body hurt, even her toes. How they hurt, she had no idea, but they did. Maybe she had overdone it the other day, maybe she was dying. Dying sounded like it might be possible from the sheer amount of pain she was in.

“Yah ain’t hungry?” He asked. The mattress dipped under his movement and she took the chance to peek out from under the blanket only to see him turning from his side to his back.

“No.” It was a lie. She was sure he heard it in her voice, but the thought of getting out of this bed, even to eat was too painful.

“You sure?”

“Everything hurts.” She whined into the darkness that she had created under his blankets. Body twisting, she felt the tightness in her legs and back.

Downstairs, a pounding on the door had her poking her head out from under the blankets again. Beside her, Daryl got up and got dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt before he moved to find out who was there. Pandora refused to move, besides it was probably for him anyway. Pulling the blankets back over her head, she hunkered back down into the warm darkness.

“Rosita hey,” That surprised her, so she eased herself out from under the blankets to stand at the open door.  The top floor had a small space that was open to below from the bedroom so you could look right down at the front entrance.

“I’m here for Pandora.” Rosita was moving now, Pandora watched her coming to the bottom of the steps. She tried to step back into the bedroom, but she was too slow. “I can see you there, let’s go.”

Pandora stepped out of the doorway dressed in a pair of shorts and tank top, “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Whose fault is that?” The smaller woman snapped, hand on her hip. Her tone was light, but there was some underlying tension in her voice. “Eat and meet me by the solar panels in a half-hour.”

Turning to Daryl, Rosita flashed him a wicked smile, “I’ll turn her into a fighter yet.” With that, she left, shutting the door with a little more force than Pandora deemed necessary.

“Fuck.” Pandora muttered under her breath as she lumbered back to her own room to get dressed. Standing at her dresser, she tried to find something that she could wear to get her ass kicked. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to get her ass handed to her. Whatever happened last night had Rosita on edge, no way Pandora was getting off easy today.

She finally found of pair of green fitted pants, a type of spandex material she was almost surel. She found a long-sleeved shirt too, one that would cover the darkening bruise on her upper arm from the other day. Finally, she pulled a brush through her hair, collecting it all into a bun on the top of her head. Every movement was painful, every lift of her arm and motion of her leg sent tugging pains through her.

Down in the kitchen Daryl was frying some eggs in a pan, two plates piled with mixed veggies on the counter was waiting for her when she came down. Pandora didn’t sit, fearing she might not get up again. Instead, she tried to stretch out her muscles while she waited. Reaching down, she touched her toes and started wiggling them in the process.

“You know,” She commented to his turned back, lunging deep in a warrior stretch in the kitchen. “If you didn’t think it was a good idea for me to train today you could say so.”

At the stove Daryl laughed, shaking his head, “Naw you did this to yourself, you live with it.”

“Fine,” She huffed, reaching up and stretching her arms above her head. With every stretch, the pain lessened so she pushed herself to stretch a little harder. “If I die today, I hope you feel really bad.”

Another snort as he slid an egg onto one of the plates before handing it to her, “Shut up and eat.”

Groaning, she ate standing, downing the bottle of water he put in front of her. It was good, she mused, wondering if he made this hash on his own too. Though she doubted it. Just because he could hunt like no one else in Alexandria, cooking was not his strength. Finishing, she moved to the sink to get started cleaning up. He was already done just as quickly, side-stepping around her to get in front of the sink.

“Go on, Ah’ll wash up.” He looked at her through the strands of hair in his eyes. “Ride with me later?”

“Sure, if I’m not dead.” She replied, giving his arm a light squeeze. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek, just to show him how glad she was he came back. The moment played behind her eyes too. How she would slide up beside him, palm flat on his chest and pressing a kiss to his cheek. In the next heartbeat the moment was gone and she was back standing there in the kitchen, unmoving. Daryl cleared his throat, drawing her attention back up to his face which was what got her moving again out the door.

Rosita was waiting just where she said she would be waiting, by the solar panels. On the ground in front of her, two long knives lay in the grass. When Pandora saw them, she stopped. Weapons training was not something she thought would be happening. 

“Um, knives?” She asked, touching the one closest to her with the toe of her shoe. Wolves always had knives, little knives for leaving tiny cuts on flesh and big ones for killing. A phantom blade ran itself along her hip bone, she shivered. Shaking fingers brushed the spot, feeling for the scar that she was sure still lingered there.

“You want to stop feeling like a victim, you learn how to fight.”

That made Pandora stiffen slightly. Weapons were something she had already had some experience with. Being in the army, her Dad had always made sure that they could shoot so her aim was great. When shit hit the fan, he had given them knives. She could see it now, almost like she was there: her dad banging against the car to draw the dead, calling out instructions as she and her sister chopped through rotted skulls.

What would he think if he could see her now, broken and unwilling to even step outside most of the time . Would he think she was weak? Would he scoff and tell her to get a grip? Part of her imagined he would. She imagined he would sit her down and tell her that enough was enough, if she didn’t take control now then she was better off walking into the woods. Harsh love was always his thing.

“Pandora?” Rosita was in front of her, snapping her fingers in fine tuned impatience. “You keep zoning out like that you’re gonna end up dead.”

Rolling her eyes, Pandora jumped at the other woman, catching her off guard and knocking her feet out from under her. Rosita lay on her back whooping with laugher. The morning continued a little different, she didn’t get the upper hand on Rosita often. Her body screamed at her with every movement which Rosita noticed, but refused to slow her pace. A few times Pandora came out ahead, using her agility to get out of holds and locks. They had worked with the weapons too, but Pandora wasn’t bad with weapons, hand to hand was her problem.

By the end of the session they both lay in the soft grass gasping for air. Blood from her nose was drying under the sun, she hadn’t been fast enough when Rosita had delivered a punch. She hadn’t minded the pain in her face as it was blocking out the pain in the rest of her body, so that was good.

“You got better already.” Rosita commented, turning her head to the side to look at her.

“That’s good, at least one thing is getting better.” Her arm covered her eyes now, shielding them from the rays of the sun. It was warmer now, sun tickling the patches of exposed skin.

“I heard about the other night.”

Pandora laughed suddenly then, stopping to groan and hold her sides from the pain that laughing caused. “You heard about it, or you heard me?” She finally said when she had recovered enough to speak.

Rosita only sighed before standing, “I guess we heard each other.”

The tone in her voice made Pandora scramble up from the ground to catch her before she left. She was a little too slow because Rosita already had her back to her.

“Rosita!” She called, straining forward to catch the other woman’s wrist. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

For a second, she was sure she was going to get a snarky remark in return so she steeled herself against it. Instead, she watched as Rosita’s face softened slightly. Her heart did an odd tap dance at seeing that moment of vulnerability.

“Thank you,” Rosita responded. Pandora watched her turn to leave but she stopped. “Listen, the same goes for you alright? Why don’t you come over for dinner?”

The offer shocked her into a moment of silence. Everyone here had accepted her as part of the group, albeit some slower than others. Before, not many of them felt like her friends but now it was changing.

“I’d like that,” Pandora answered with a smile. “That is, if I haven’t died from the pain.”

Rosita laughed, turning to leave. Pandora watched her go, stretching out the last few knots from her muscles. When Rosita’s form had faded around the corner, Pandora began moving. Her steps were slower of course, muscles reminding her that they were indeed in pain. Each step was slower and slower, the constant movement had loosened them when she had been training, but now they were beginning to tighten all over again. Reaching the end of her street, she had to stop to rest against another house.

“Fuck.” She muttered. Moving her hands, she tried to rub out some of the stiffness in her thighs. Under her skin, the muscles were pulled tight, coiled like snakes.

“Pandora? Everything ok?”

Glancing up, she found her eyes meeting the concerned face of Morgan. Instantly, she went stiff, blood in her veins turning ice-cold. She hadn’t interacted much with this man, he was too vocal about not needing to kill for her liking. She still hadn’t forgotten what he had done, what he tried to do. Her hands stopped mid-rub, peeling away from her sore legs and curling into fists.

“Fine.” She bit off the end of the word, straightening up to leave. Rage bubbled under the surface, she couldn’t do this, not with this man. Not with her nightmares so fresh in her mind, images still burning behind her eyes.

“Pandora wait.” She was already half turned away from him when he said this.

Blinking, she looked at him, brown eyes meeting her own. She didn’t want to stand here with him. She knew what he was, this man Morgan was not one of them. He didn’t belong here. He had tried to save a wolf, tried to save a man who had helped take almost everything from her.

“Morgan,” Her voice was a deep growl now, a habit she was picking up from Daryl. “Don’t.” 

“Pandora, please.” He stepped towards her, she was quick though, putting up her hands and taking two steps back. Her brain screamed for more distance between them. He didn’t stop speaking though, only raised his hands as a sign of peace. “You have to understand, we don’t have to kill. There are other choices.”

“No there aren’t!” She nearly screamed. “You kill monsters like him, Morgan! You don’t keep them as pets!”

“I was a monster once. I had blood on my hands, as did Rick and Daryl.”

“No!” She tried to remember to be calm, tried to breathe through the rage but it was all-encompassing. He didn’t get to say his name, didn’t get to act like Daryl was anything like him. Her mind’s eye flashed with his face, a W carved into his forehead and rotten toothed smile. Phantom fingers tickled up her arms, causing her to try and shake them away. “You don’t understand Morgan! And if you stopped preaching for one fucking second you would. A man like him doesn’t deserve to live.” She was screaming at him now, unable to stop herself. Still, he stood there unmoving, watching her.

She couldn’t take it, couldn’t stand that look on his fucking face. Like he knew something she didn’t. He didn’t know shit, not about this, not about her. The steps she took back to her house were quick, fueled by her rage. In front of her, the door swung open with a bang racing past Rick and Daryl in their kitchen, she headed for her room.

Dimly, she thought she heard someone call her name, but she didn’t stop until the door to her room was slamming shut behind her. Spinning around, she reached for a pillow, holding to tight to her face she screamed into it. Sometimes that was the only way she felt like she could get her anger under control. The scream tore through her until her throat and chest burned with the force of it. Finished, she pulled the pillow from her face to gasp for air.

“Pan?” Daryl’s voice came from the other side of the door, laced slightly with worry.

“I’m fine!” Her answering shout was too loud, too rushed to make it believable. The door knob moved slightly as if he was laying his hand on it. “I’m going to shower.” That was better, calmer and more controlled. Breathe in two, breathe out two, the voice in her head calmly delivered the instructions. She gave no time for him to change his mind about coming in as she was in the bathroom locking the door behind her.

In the mirror, her eyes were wide and her face flushed with rage. She pulled the hair tie from the end of her hair, undoing the bun and running her fingers through the tangled waves. Rage still coiled deep in her gut but she tried to ignore it. Instead, she focused on the burning pain in her muscles, tensing and releasing them group by group. Everything hurt but it was kind of a dull pain now, it meant she was getting used to it.

Stepping into the shower, the water was hotter than it should be. But the scalding heat kept her grounded, shocking her body into the present moment. The fight with Morgan had shaken the deep calm she tried to keep. The man infuriated her to no end with his ‘every life is precious’ bullshit. It was just that, bullshit. Some lives were worth saving, but the number got smaller and smaller as the days went buy.

By the time Pandora was dressed, the rage had simmered down to a mild annoyance. The annoyance was low enough for her to be able to function. Back in her room, there was a tug and tightness in her muscles with every movement. Turning, she rummaged through her nightstand to find a long forgotten bottle of painkillers. Popping it open, she swallowed them dry and for a brief moment she thought about laying in her bed until the pills kicked in.

The sound of footsteps downstairs were a reminder that Daryl must be waiting around for her. Standing in the middle of her room, she heaved a sigh before heading for the door. The second she opened the door, the sound of the footsteps stopped.

“Pan?” His voice floated up from the kitchen where he must have been pacing.

“Coming.” Unable to help herself, she picked up the pace towards him. Despite the stiffness in her body, she was in the kitchen before she knew it. He wasn’t a monster, how could anyone look at him and say he had once been a monster?

The kitchen was empty though, and she found him lounging on the sofa in the living room. He was spread out feet on the table in front of him trying, and failing to look calm. Turning, their eyes made contact and for a second she stopped, frozen in her spot by his gaze. Heat travelled up her neck, she could feel the redness in her cheeks.  

“Yah alright?” Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

With the moment shattered she lowered herself down onto the sofa beside him, she curled into herself, pulling her knees up to her chest. The action stretched out her muscles, easing some of the cramping she was feeling. He was a furnace like always, heat leaching into her muscles softening them.  She craved it, craved his warmth like a good drug.

“I ran into Morgan on the way home.” The sentence was quite void of emotion and she took a small moment to be proud of herself for that. Beside her, he stiffened, “He isn’t dead, so that’s a good thing.”

His chuckle vibrated through her, and she smiled, leaning her head onto his shoulder now. Her stomach twisted in knots, unease deep in her bones.  

“Are we still going for a ride?”

“Yah want to?”

“Yes please.” For once she was eager to take a ride outside the walls. She could really use the time to clear her head. Wind rushing past her always seemed to wipe her mind clear of any lingering thoughts. It had been some time since Daryl had the bike taken, and she had to admit that she missed the rides they would take.

“Alright, get ready then meet me outside.” Daryl was up then, heading for the front door.

Pandora knew that he wouldn’t wait long so she left, scrambling from the couch to her room, savouring the pain-free movements she was able to make. In her room, she grabbed a light jacket for herself, rushing into Daryl’s rooms and getting a jacket for him as well.

In his room, she stopped for a moment to look around at his bedroom. Dirty clothes littered almost every corner of the room. She made a mental note that she needed to get some of their clothes washed as she headed out to the meet him outside.

Clearly, she had taken too long because when she stepped out into the street, Daryl was already out in the road, bike idling under him. A wide grin spread over her face as she slipped onto the seat beside him without waiting  to make sure she was holding on, they took off.

 


	26. Quiet Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday. This weekend was a little crazy for me, this week is also crazy but that's besides the point. Here is a new chapter for all you lovely people! There wont be an undated until next weekend. I know this one is short but hopefully it will tie you all over until then!

Quiet days 

“I don’t miss traffic.” 

“Ah don’t miss daylight savings time.” 

That sent Pandora into a fit of whooping laughter, arms wrapped around her stomach as she struggled to breathe. Tears pooled in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. They had ridden for about half an hour, picking a clearing in the woods surrounding their home. Daryl had found them a spot up on a small hill with a good view of the surrounding space.  

“Any time yah wanna stop laughing” Daryl grumbled beside her, hands running over his face knees drawn to his chest arms resting on them. 

“I’m sorry,” She wheezed attempting to control her laughter.  “It's just so…” The sentence died away as she began laughing again. The picture of him setting his clocks back and swearing in the morning when he got up too late or too early was hilarious. 

“Ah could give you something to laugh about.” 

Tears in her vision, she turned to him not sure what he meant until he exploded into action. His fingers found her sides, getting just the right spot to leave her gasping and breathless. Reaching up, she tried to push his hands away, but he was stronger than she was. Rolling to the side, she put enough distance between them that his hands slipped away from her for a second. He followed her though until she found herself laying on her back laughing, looking up into his laughing face. 

His smile was bright, brighter than she had seen in a long time. His frame loomed over her, hands at her sides to pin her in the same spot. He was kneeling over her now, arms and legs pinning her in place and chest directly over her.  Heat rose in her face, a warmth making its home in her chest as she looked him at. He was still laughing, his much deeper than her high pitched laughter. 

Slowly, the sounds coming from both of them died away, and they were left staring at each other in the growing silence. Under him, her body moved on her own accord, hand lifting to cup his cheek then moving to run her fingers along the stubble of his beard. Above her, Daryl was frozen, lips parted slightly as he gazed down at her. 

“You could use a shave.” She whispered, her voice pitched in a low, breathy whisper. Her eyes never left his as she watched him process her words. Her thumb ran in small circles over his jaw. 

A sigh pushed past his lips and he closed his eyes leaning into her hand gently. Slowly, he lowered himself closer to her to lean into her hand as his eyes closed. He was just inches away from her face. Her hand slipped away from his face, tangling in his hair. Heat pooled in her chest then with his face so close to her, all other thoughts melted like liquid. His scent was the same as always: smoke, grease and earth. It reminded her of home. 

“Daryl.” Pandora wasn’t even sure why she was saying his name. Daryl lifted himself up, slightly red-faced and locked eyes with her. Breath catching in her chest, she blinked and opened her mouth but no sound came out. In his eyes, she could watch the growing storm cloud the clear blue. In her chest, her heart pounded. Fear and desire mingled equally inside her but the desire was to kiss him, to taste him only for a moment was strong. Fear was there as well, fear that the moment they crossed that line she would find herself stumbling back into a flashback. 

Behind them somewhere a branch snapped, the sound of the undead floated towards them. Just like that, the moment was gone as the real-world around them called for attention. Daryl is moving before she can, lifting himself off her and heading for the tree line behind them. 

Titling her head back, she watched him as a dead thing stumbled towards him. He was fast though, knife out and in its skull before she even had her breathing under control. Bitterness rolled up inside her. Fuck this world, stealing every moment of happiness they managed to find. Rolling her head back to the sky she sighed, trying to make shapes out of the clouds above her. She waited for some time taking big, deep breaths. When Daryl finally came back he didn’t come back beside her, only stood over her.  

“Come’on.” His tone was off, a certain distance she had never heard directed at her. He still reached out for her though, pulling her up by the upper arms until she was standing. Though she stood so close to him, she couldn’t be further away as the gap opened wider and wider between them. 

The rest of the ride back was spent in silence, each of them too caught up in their own thoughts. Images of his face being so close and so relaxed floated in her mind’s eye. She craved his closeness because since he was real, he reminded her that she was real too. They rolled into the gates still in silence, her clinging tightly to him from behind. They stopped in the driveway and she slipped off the back, head tilted upwards to the sun. The sound of the garage door opening triggered a sag in her shoulders.

When he came outside, she was standing in the driveway with her eyes still on the setting sun. He was slipping beside her then, bumping her lightly on the shoulder. It was an uneasy gesture, an attempt at lightness that fell flat. A sigh escaped her, she wanted the awkwardness that surrounded them to disappear already. But the moments of unfinished actions between them were weighing on her shoulders. Her spine was bent with every touch of his fingers, every word whispered right in her ear. 

“Dinner?” He asked, breaking the silence. 

“Rosita invited me over to her place.” She hadn’t told him before, hadn’t brought it up. But now standing next to him in the driveway, hands shoved into her pockets, she thought that dinner with Rosita was a bad idea.  She wanted nothing more than to eat something Carol had left in the fridge and curl up on the sofa with him. Instead, she glanced at him from the side, trying to look calm. 

Beside her Daryl give a light shrug, “Guess Ah’ll see you later.” 

She didn’t answer right away, only stood stiff, leaning against him slightly. “Ya.” She breathed out the word. Turning, she made a move to leave but stopped to place a kiss on his cheek. The stubble of his beard tickled her lips. Not giving him the time to respond, she bounded down the driveway toward Rosita’s house. 

When she knocked on the door, Rosita’s voice carried out from the inside telling her to come in. She slipped inside. The house was strong with the scent of whatever dish Rosita was cooking, something richly seasoned judging by the smell of it.  Once inside, Eugene sitting at the dining room table caught her attention. Eugene sat in the middle of the table, the entire surface covered with different maps and scraps of paper. He chewed a pencil between his teeth whispering and mumbling softly to himself. 

She slowed as she moved past him, trying to make out the scribbled notes. In front of him was a map of Washington covered in little circles and notes. Stopping at the side of the table, she leaned down to trace her finger along the highway that lead to the outskirts of the city. 

“There was a base right here.” She muttered, reaching for a pen. Gaze flickered across the streets she made sure she was right before circling the area with a delicate pen stroke. “It's hidden some kind of lab I think, but there might be something left.” 

“Oh,” Eugene was writing on another piece of paper now. “That would need to be a whole new trip.” Muttering to himself, eyes glued to the scraps of paper around him. 

“Don’t mind him,” Rosita poked her head in from the kitchen. “We can eat in the living room.” 

Pandora only nodded, following the other woman into the kitchen. The meal was already laid out on the island: a bowl of roasted veggies, and a plate of what looked like patties. Beside the food, three plates sat along the island, buffet style seats all lined up. Pandora slipped into an empty seat as Rosita fixed her a plate of food. Holding a plate for each of them in her hands, the other woman walked towards the living room. 

Pandora slipped off the bar stool to follow behind into the living room. Once on the sofa, Rosita placed the plate in her lap. A few moments of silence passed between them as they ate, Pandora didn’t break it until she was half way through the meal when the silence was too much for her to bear. 

“How are you?” Pandora asked in a low tone, slow and careful. She eyed Rosita from the side of her vision trying to predict the other woman’s reaction. 

Rosita only laughed, rolling her eyes slightly, “I’m single.” 

Pandora put another forkful of food into her mouth, chewing slowly while she processed her answer. Rosita’s words had a bitter edge to them, a bite under the laughter.  “I’m sorry.” Was the only thing she could come up with now. Her mind drifted now to think about how long Rosita and Abraham had been together, all they had seen and done for it just to be over like that. The end of their relationship was another change to add her ever growing list, it made her uneasy.  

Rosita sighed, tucking some of her hair behind her eyes but kept eating her food instead of answering. After they had finished, Pandora cleaned up. Cooking was not really her thing but cleaning up, she was all over that. With the kitchen cleaned, she went back to sit in the living room, tucking her knees to her chest as she watched Rosita. 

“How are you doing?” Rosita asked finally. 

A sigh escaped her, fingers running through the loose waves hanging around her face. The image of her and Daryl on the hill flashed in her mind and the carefree mood that she hardly saw from him. The memory brought back the sensation of his face being so close to hers, their lips almost touching. Absently, her finger ran across her lower lip trying to picture what he might have tasted like. 

“Oh, girl what’s that look?” Rosita jabbed her in the side, breaking her out of her moment of thought. 

“Nothing,” She muttered, her hands fell away to rest limp in her lap. “I went out for a ride with Daryl before, my head is still there.” 

Rosita gave her a long, lingering look that Pandora tried to ignore, choosing to pick at the skin of her fingers instead. They chatted for a while longer, Pandora curled on the sofa while Rosita stretched out her legs on the coffee table in front of her. They talked about life, about what would happen now and what the future would look like. It wasn’t until the goose bumps began to appear on her arms as the cool breeze came in through the open window that she thought maybe it was time to go. 

“It’s late.” Pandora finally whispered after they had lapsed into silence. 

“You want me to walk you?” 

Rosita was getting up now, flicking the lights on in the room and moving to tidy the things they left out of place. Pandora watched her from where she now stood in the open-door way. Long seconds passed of her blinking slowly at Rosita. 

“No,” She muttered finally. “I’m ok.” 

Turning, she wrapped her arms around Rosita to give her a tight hug before moving towards the door. Passing Eugene, she only nodded, twisting the knob on the front door so she could slip outside.

Once outside though she moved into the middle of the street and tilted her face up towards the sky. The cool night air tickled her face, blowing strands of her hair around. Long minutes ticked by with her standing outside, filling her lungs with the cool night air. She had a habit of letting her mind slip away. 

“Pandora? Kid?”

Abraham’s figure was silhouetted by the one light.The smoke from the cigar he was smoking twisted and curled into the darkness. From the corner of her eye she could make out his hunched frame and a large gun resting between his bent knees. Behind him a light was on in his house, a small outlined frame moving around inside. 

“Abraham?” 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” 

She shrugged instead of giving a real answer, allowing her legs to carry her beside him. She eased her way down onto the step, knee bumping his causally. Beside her, he shifted to reach into the pockets on the vest he wore, coming out with a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes. Despite herself, she reached for them, rushing to pull one out and place it between her lips. 

“Here,” He was holding out a match now. Moving forward, she breathed in deep as Abraham moved to put out the match. “Thought you might want to have your own pack.” 

Silently, she nodded. Taking another long, deep drag, the smoke filled her lungs simultaneously filling her with the deep calm it always brought with it. 

“Thank you.” She whispered when she flicked the growing ash off the end. 

“What are you doing out so late?” 

“I was coming back from Rosita’s. I wanted a moment to myself.” 

Beside her, Abraham nodded. Sometimes he was the most aware of her needs, giving her more space than most. She had heard him from time to time exchanging heated words with Daryl over how he treated her. Now he watched her, she could sense his eyes on her. Glancing to the side, she met his eyes, gaze heavy. 

“Are you happy?” She asked, taking another deep drag. She should be upset with him, should be mad that he had broken Rosita’s heart. He was changing things, things that should never be changed. But there was something different in his eyes and the set of his shoulders that made her need to ask, need to know. 

His laughing was the first answer she got, it shook the surrounding silence. 

“Ah, you would be the one to wonder that wouldn’t you?” He finally said when the laughter had died away. “I am.” 

She turned his answer around in her head, flipping it over and examining it slowly. Change was something she worked actively against, but if he was happy who was she to call it wrong? Still, she couldn’t help but picture the bitterness of Rosita earlier in the evening. The cold hardness in her eyes when Pandora asked how she was doing. Silence lapsed between them again, the smoke had gone out some time ago and now with her hands free she found her twisting them around each other. 

“Kid?” 

“That’s good that you're happy, you deserve to be.” She stood up then, stretching out her cramping legs. “I should get back it’s late.” 

She didn’t give him the opportunity to offer to walk her home, instead she strode down the street in the direction of her house. 

It was dark and eerily silent inside, Daryl must have gone to bed hours ago. She hadn’t turned on a single light, fearing even the smallest one would wake him. Instead, she placed her hands on the walls to guide her. When she stopped outside Daryl’s room, she listened to the sound of his deep rhythmic breathing that told her he had been sleeping for a while. There was a tug deep in her stomach that tried to pull her to the bed with him. She longed for it like a deep ache in her bones. She headed for her own room instead, a shower would make everything right again. 

When she was finished, however, she stood in her dark room missing that sense of calm she usually felt. Hair dripping wet and dressed in shorts and a tank top, the idea of her own bed was suddenly so fucking stupid, why would she sleep alone? She didn’t need the light or her fingers to find her way into Daryl’s room. Instead, she just found her way into his room by memory alone. 

Standing over his bed, she watched him for a moment. In sleep, years melted from his face. The lines etched deep in his expressions when he was awake melted away. He was all the more handsome while he slept, second only to when he smiled. Leaning down she brushed his hair from his eyes, “Daryl.” She whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible so that she didn’t startle him. He jolted awake still, hand gripping her wrist. He was more stable than she was though and the moment his eyes were open, he knew it was her. They didn’t need words now, he just pulled her into him, shifting to make room in the bed. 

“Are you sure?” She whispered, slipping into bed with him. She didn’t turn away this time, she kept her face to him only inches away. Cold fingers found his warm chest resting lightly against the thin material of his shirt. 

He leaned down to pull the blankets over them and drape an arm heavily over her. “Always.” He whispered, pulling her tighter towards him, his hot breath tickling her cheek. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember leave me some love!!!


	27. Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Did you miss me?? I missed you, I really did! Sorry for the long wait for the first time since I started this fic I have writers block. I'm totally stuck on the next chapter so bare with me I promise I am not giving up, too much good stuff is happening here.

 

The days that followed fell into a pattern for Pandora. Mornings were spent working out, then training with Rosita. Pandora spent her afternoons in therapy, the rest of her hours were spent wandering around inside. That only lasted a day or two before she began to get bored. A feeling that she was sure she was never going to feel again with the current state of the world. From her usual spot on top of the wall, she would watch Daryl and Rick leave Alexandria day after day. A small feeling tugged at her deep in her bones, she wanted to go out with them.

One night she confessed to Daryl that she wanted to test her growing skills and go on a short run. At first, she had been met with Daryl’s stoic silence as he stared at her openly. Panicking, she was about to be turned down before she had even begun so she rushed to list reasons she should come with them. She decided to play on his pride by reminding him that he could protect her. Only after she offered to let him watch her training with Rosita did he say he would consider it. After watching one session he agreed, Pandora hadn’t been able to hide her smile all day.

Everything seemed to settle into a kind of normal. Life within the walls moved along like always. With the fear of Negan  removed everyone was at ease. Plans for the community grew every day.  Maggie fixed her garden, insisting they needed to begin growing their own food. Everyday Pandora watched her out there with a few of the others. She wanted to help a time or two she tried, only ending up more a hindrance then anything. So it was back to watching the work get done.  One day after training with Rosita and therapy with Denise, Pandora found herself standing at the gates of Alexandria doing a weapons check.  Above her, the sun beat down, warming the small patches of exposed skin on her face and neck. It was a good day to head out, warm, but not too warm. Not a cloud in sight in the sky above them. This would be the third time she left Alexandria it was easier, every time she killed a walker herself it was as if something snapped back into place.

“Knives,” She muttered, fingers skimming over the two she kept at her belt. One of them a large hunting knife, handle made of polished, dark wood. The second one was smaller, all compact and sharp, cool edges. With them firm in place, she leaned down to check on the one she stashed between her boot and sock. “Gun. Check” That was also in a holder on her belt, extra ammo tucked into the pocket of her cargo pants.

Daryl had been insistent that she should have as many weapons as she could carry. She would probably have more if it was up to him, but she had to put her foot down at some point. She had argued that more than four weapons was overkill, they argued until Rick stepped in and silenced them with a stern glare. He agreed with Pandora, she could just tell by the look on his face.

“Get in.” Turning sharply, the car rolled up behind her. Daryl was leaning on the passenger door window, cigarette already lit between his fingers.

Pandora blinked, eyes sliding to the empty back seat. Of course they would make her sit in the back. Holding back a sigh she slipped in, wishing Daryl would at least slide back and join her. Instead, they were off with a CD playing and a lit cigarette passing back and forth. Sagging against the seat, she blew the smoke out the window, watching it twist and curl in the air and blow past their car.

“Where are we going this time?” She asked, leaning forward into the gap between the two front seats. A few strands of hair caught in her eyelashes. She had been sensible enough to pull it all back into a tight braid, but these days her hair seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Ain’t far, little building we saw coming back one time.” Daryl answered, turning his head to the side to glance at her.

“Why would one building have anything we might need?”

It was Rick’s turn to answer then without turning his eyes from the road. “It looked all locked up, hoping something good might be left inside.”

She nodded before remembering that he hadn’t turned to look at her so she answered with a dismissive, “Cool”

She was excited about this run, the two she went on before were uneventful. Nothing too far nothing too dangerous, they just been checking the homes and buildings around Alexandria. Today was different, they were going out further than they usually did.

Daryl had been right, the drive was short. Along the way, they passed trees with their tops reaching out, hungry for sunlight.  Leaning out the window, she longed to get out and climb them to see how far she could get and find out what she could see from up there. She always had an affinity for heights, up on the high bars in her training gym was where she felt the safest.

Before long they were stopping. The building in front of them was part of a larger strip mall. A fence encircled the entire building, Pandora assumed none of the stores had gotten a chance to open to the public. Everything within the fence seemed to be intact, it didn’t look like anyone had even tried to camp out inside.

The second Rick and Daryl opened their doors, she was out as well. Since she was faster and lighter on her feet, she was at the fence before them, fingers gripping the chain-link fence.  

“Yah ready?” Daryl came up beside her, his knife was already out, gripped tightly in his right hand. One glance back at him told her that his body was an outline of tight lines. He was stressed, but he was always stressed when he took her out of the walls. Fuck she was stressed too, but Daryl was here and whenever he was, she was safe.

Nodding, she took her own knife out, tapping on the fence to use the sound to draw out any walkers that might be around. For a few long seconds, nothing happened. Pandora knocked again, walking the line of the fence. Behind her she could hear Daryl’s heavy footsteps, he never let her get too far away from him.

“Guess it’s clear to go in?” She never turned to look at him, her eyes stayed focused on the strip mall in front of them. Nothing seemed to move, it was almost too still for her liking. She felt him though, barely a breath away from her. If she leaned back slightly, she would be pressed against his chest.

“Guess so.” Daryl muttered, arms crossed tightly over his chest. She glanced at him then, seeing the sharp movement of his eyes as he scanned the area in front of them. He was so much closer to her these days, the distance that he kept from others didn’t exist when it came to her.

“Incoming!” Rick’s voice broke them out of their silent moment of calculation. Rick was beside them now, in front of them a few of the dead lumbered through the overgrown grass.

They must have been close by, drawn in by the noise she had made. Better to get rid of them now anyway. Blood pounded in her veins, despite her present company, the tang of fear lingered in her mouth. She knew she would be fine, she had been training for this situation. Kill the dead and stay alive, easy.  Shifting, she tried to see around Rick and Daryl’s shoulders, but both men were standing shoulder to shoulder to box her in with the fence at her back. The fear simmered down now, replaced by a bubbling annoyance at being treated like a child.

“No guns, keep it quiet.” Rick instructed, voice void of emotion.

Pandora titled her head to the side wondering who the fuck he was talking to, couldn’t be her since clearly neither of them would even let her get anywhere near the walkers. Turning, there was a gap between Daryl’s back and the fence. Without a second thought, she slipped through to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

She was sure she heard Daryl’s neck crack with the speed that he turned to glare at her. Pandora ignored him though. In front of her, a walker moved. His steps lumbering and heavy. He only had one arm she noted. Good, only one hand she would have to worry about. She really tried not to look too hard at them and remember that once they were human. They hardly looked human now though, jaw hanging loose and flesh and muscle rotted away. Pandora was quick though, plunging her knife into its skull. The bone was rotted away so she hardly used any force before it was just a limp body.

Somewhere beside her she was sure she could hear someone shouting, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying over the blood pounding in her ears. She plunged forward again, taking two steps towards another walker. With more force this time she plunged her knife into its skull, aiming for the temple like Rosita had taught her. She needed to jerk harder this time though, throwing more of her body weight into the movement. She took a second longer to pull the knife free this time, the lifeless body was already falling past her when she finally yanked her knife from its skull.

A third one was lumbering towards her now as well. Her gaze flickered to the side, catching Daryl’s figure. They had almost cleared the lot of them she noted, maybe three or four more but it was hard to tell. Blinking again, her gaze snapped back to the third walker that was still coming.

“Oh shit.” She said panicked before raising her knife again, the walker was dangerously close to her this time. This one was huge, skin stretched over bulging, swollen flesh. With both arms intact, it reached for her. She was faster though, ducking under its grip while slamming her knife up from his jaw to his brain. It took a frightening amount of strength to get it that far and once the body went limp above her, its weight came crashing down.

The last bit of air she had stored in her lungs was forced out by the weight as a thin scream. The dead walker landed on her with a thud, the weight and the smell reminded her of them. Reminded her of hands reaching in the dark, always hungry for her flesh. She tried to fight, pitching her body and kicking her legs.

Wet, thick blood flowed from the wound, coating her face and chest. As quickly as it happened, it was over and she was free, frame pitching up into empty air. Hands were on her then, pulling her up to her knees.

“Pandora, Pandora! Ah got ya!” Daryl was whispering in her ear now, lips so close that they brushed against her skin, sending shivers through her.

Yes, yes she was no longer trapped. Daryl had done something, removed the weight from her. The fight seemed to rush out of her then, leaving her empty and tired. Her frame now sagged forward into his arms, head pressed against the smooth muscle of his chest. Every breath she took was easier now, the air smelled clean but filled with Daryl’s scent.

Blinking, she sucked in a few deep breaths before she pulled away to look at him. “Fuck, I'm so sorry.” Tears made dirty streaks on her face as she looked at him. Shame burned white and hot inside her, she had been working so hard and in one moment she was tumbling into a flashback.

“It's ok, Ah got you it's ok.” His voice was a deep rumble against her chest. She leaned back into him then and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Lemme clean you up.” He muttered as he began to wipe the blood away the best he could with his rag.

They stayed like this for a few moments with Rick pacing in and out of her vision. He turned away from them after a while, working on the lock on the gate. Pandora was the first to stand, pulling her jacket tighter around her, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She wiped the wet tracks off her face with her sleeves, trying not to glance down at her blood stained clothes.

“Let’s go then.” She whispered, leaning down and offering her hand to Daryl to get up. He took her outstretched hand, causing a jolt to run right through her. A tremble had made its home in her bones but she tried to steel herself against it. Daryl must have felt something too as he leaned harder into her.

The sound of the fence being pushed out of the way called her back to the present moment. Rick was waiting at the opening with the knife she had left in the walker held out in his right hand. She took it without thinking, putting in back in its holder at her belt. She held the handle tightly gripped in her belt. She breathed slow and deep, counting each breath she took. She took a mental inventory of everything around her to stay focused, these days she found herself thankful for therapy.

The building in front of her was small, four stores in total. One of them looked like it was a variety store, that would be the most helpful for them. Pandora wandered up to the door, banging the end of her knife on the glass in case anything was inside. Nothing moved, but Rick came up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. He didnt say anything but she just knew. Stepping back, she allowed Rick and Daryl to be the first ones in. Minutes ticked by until she heard the muffled cry of an all clear from somewhere in the back of the store.

Pandora turned to head inside,leaving the door open behind her. It was Rick who must have called the all clear because Daryl stood in the front waiting. As she stepped up beside him, his hand reached out to give her a light squeeze on her arm. A sigh escaped her as she allowed the momentary pressure to ground her, taking the moment to calm herself further. He did that for her brought her a calm she never quite found on her own.

“Ah’ll go left, you go right.” He said finally, letting his hand fall from her arm.

Silent, she nodded, turning to the right side of the store. Fingers idly ran along the dust covered sleeves. This place had been almost ready to open she noted offhandedly. Items lined the shelves in neat little rows, fronts facing out, covered in a layer of dust. The first set of shelves she found was filled with bathroom essentials. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, hair ties. Pandora grabbed the hair ties, stuffing them into her pocket, could never have too many of those.

Stepping back, she stared at the contents of the shelves. Everything seemed important to her. Shit, couldn’t they use more toothpaste? More shampoo? Or rope, that was always good to have around. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for her to come, how did they make this choice, how did they pick what to bring back?

“What’s important?” She asked, turning in the general direction she assumed Daryl was. She was wrong, however, because the moment she turned her head there he was right behind her, so close that she bumped into his chest. “Oh shit, Daryl!” She turned, hands on his chest as if she would push him away, but she only let them rest there.

“Food and medicine are always the most important,” Daryl reached around her, pulling a bottle of shampoo off the shelf. “This is important too, all the time you spend in that damn shower.”

Pandora laughed, grabbing the bottle from his hand. With her free hand, she reached up to tug on one of his greasy locks.

“You need this more than me Dixon. Showers are good, try it some time”

He snorted a laugh, grabbing another bottle of conditioner from behind her and throwing it into a box by his feet. He must have put it there because she hadn’t noticed it before. It was empty save for the one bottle he just tossed inside.

“Fill this box with all that bathroom shit we need. We got the food and other shit.”

Daryl turned and moved back to his end of the store, she noticed that he had more boxes by his feet. That seemed like something she should have thought of, instead she had gone off to la la land walking through the aisles. With a shake of her head, she tried to focus and started clearing all the personal hygiene items off the shelf.  She added some baby items for good measure with Judith and Maggie’s baby on the way, who knew when they would find stuff like this again.

The next aisle seemed to be filled with a bunch of random stuff like tape measures, ropes, gel pens and notebooks. She grabbed some of the colouring books, the end of the world was boring sometimes. First aid stuff was in the next aisle and it was still stocked, Pandora found another box and filled it with everything on the shelf.

When she cleared out everything on her side, she hauled her boxes to the front of the store. She knew better than to load the car herself, Rick and Daryl would probably freak out if she went outside alone. Though she wanted to as the small store was beginning to get stuffy. Hot, unmoving air was causing her hair to stick to the back of her neck. She longed for a breeze from outside. Sighing. she turned away from the door and headed over to Daryl’s side of the store.

To her right, the rack of magazines caught her eye. Reading material was always something she needed more of, but her eyes were drawn up to a cover from a sports magazine. There she was, bright smile shining out from the glossy front page. Gasping, she leaned forward, fingers brushing the picture of her face. She remembered this day, remembered how excited her Mother and sister had been about the whole thing. The whole day she spent trying on different outfits, getting her makeup done. The attention had been what she remembered the most, how she had basked in the praise and adoring looks. She worked hard to be where she was every complament was hard eraned with with blood.

Now the world stopped around her, this version of herself had died. She was no longer the happy young woman. She was nothing like that now. Reaching out with shaking fingers, she took it and started flipping it open to the first page of her interview, it was a four-page spread. She didn’t read it though, not needing the reminder, she just looked over the pictures.

“Find anything good?” Daryl was beside her now, peering over her shoulder at what she was holding.

“That’s my parents.” She whispered, fingers skimming over the glossy picture of her family.  There she was squished between her parents who were grinning stupidly. “I had just won my Olympic qualifying competition. They were so happy.”

“Yah look happy.” He leaned further over her shoulder, fingers brushing the picture of her family.

“I was.” Sighing, she snapped it shut, not ready to keep reading; this was not the place. Daryl took the magazine from her hands, gently rolling it up and slipping it in his back pocket.

“Ah wanna see it later.” He muttered. “Come’on let's load the car.”

Pandora turned back towards the door, Rick was already there with a box in his arms. She slipped up beside him, picking herself and following him out. They had gotten a lot of good stuff from here, boxes of food, personal care items, and some more medical supplies.

Rick must have pulled the car inside the fence because there it was, doors and trunk open ready to get loaded. Rick was already shoving stuff into the trunk, she just brought the boxes, leaving them beside him to figure out how to get it all inside. When her and Daryl had brought all the boxes out, he took her to check the next building.

“Looks like a book store,” Leaning into the window, she cupped her hands around her eyes trying to make out what might be inside. “Maybe, doors are locked though.”

“Watch out.” Daryl slipped up beside her, his right hand wrapped with his red rag.

Before Pandora could even blink, he was slamming his hand through the glass of the window. The shattering sound made her jump.  She took a step back to avoid the glass that fell towards her. Nerves still on the raw side caused the sound to bounce around, echoing in her head.

“Some warning would have been nice.” She muttered, peering around his shoulder while he worked to undo the lock.

“How else did yah think Ah was going to get in?”

Rolling her eyes, she stepped past him, holding the door open to the small store. Immediately, her breath was taken away by the inside. This store had also been ready to open its doors before the world went to hell. One side was lined with books of all sizes, dust collecting on the spines. The wall in the back was filled with rows and rows of CDs, more music than she had ever seen. The floor was littered with radios, CD players, record players and wireless speakers. On the opposite side, there was racks of books, band gear, t-shirts and sweaters. The rest of the room was filled with other random things like action figures, bags, decor.

“Holy shit,” Pandora whispered, stepped inside. She went right to the music, fingers clearing the dust from the covers. Walking down the shelf she found what she had been looking for, Sleeping at Last albums. Unconsciously, she picked up all of them before realizing that she had nothing to put the five CDs in.

When she turned, Daryl was behind her holding a backpack with the zipper already pulled open. Grinning at him, she put them inside but when she tried to take the bag, he stopped her, holding it firmly in his hands.

“Ah’ll hold it in case you want more,” Reaching inside, he pulled out a black t-shirt to hand to her. “Thought you would want to change, found yah this.” Holding it out in front of himself, he unfolded it so she could see. It was all black, the neckline dipped down into a V and the front was decorated with a golden owl.

Pandora glanced down at herself, in the excitement of the new store she hadn’t remembered that she was covered in blood. Looking down, she was reminded of the sticky feeling of the material.

“Oh, right.” She tried not to remember where the blood came from. The faster she got it off, the better. In seconds, the jacket and t-shirt she had been wearing were on the floor in front of her, leaving her standing in front of Daryl in her tank top.

Unphased he handed her the t-shirt, slipping it on she found that the size was perfect. It clung to her frame more than what she usually wore, but it was new so she didn’t really mind. Turning, she spun for Daryl who hadn’t taken his eyes off her as she changed.

“Looks good.” He muttered, eyes fixed on her from under strands of his hair.

She laughed, suddenly feeling light, happy even. Closing the distance between them she reached out, brushing the hair that always seemed to cover his bright blue eyes.

“How you can see me with all that hair in your eyes I will never know.” She whispered.

She held her hands there with his hair pulled back out of the way, they locked eyes again. There was something strange in his face, a flickering torrent of emotions. She wondered if her own face looked the same, wondered if he could see the train of thought running through her mind. She longed to taste his lips to see if he tasted anything like she imagined he would. It could be so quick, just a flash of a moment of their lips touching. Her mouth was bone dry suddenly, all the moisture sucked away. She licked her lips, never breaking his gaze.

“Ah always see you.” He reached for her then, fingers against her chin tilting her face up just a fraction.

Her breath was stuck then, lodged somewhere in her throat refusing to move. Heat rose in her face, white and hot as his finger ran lightly against her bottom lip. How could a man who could be so gruff, so violent, keep his touch so light? He barely brushed her skin, tickling her with light pressure. Body working on instinct alone, she leaned into him as if he had his own gravity and it called only to her. The space between them slipped away until she was close enough to feel his breath on her face, one more movement and their lips would touch.

A car door slammed behind them, vibrating in the stillness of the room. That was all it took to send him jumping away from her, for the inches between them to become feet. Daryl turned from her then to grab another bag and continue the search for anything of use, leaving Pandora standing alone with her hands hanging limp at her sides. Tears stung her vision, the knowledge of another unfinished action weighing her down, bowing her spine.

Wiping angrily at her eyes, she spun on her heel to collect clothing items and a few pairs of shoes, shoving them into a bag from the rack. His rejection stung her more than she thought it would. He’d jumped away from her like, got close but not too close. Unless she had misunderstood that was the case with her sometimes, emotions were not her strong point. That thought quieted her storm of emotions, to place the blame on herself was easier.

“Pan?” His voice broke her out of her daze. Blinking, she realized that she was standing there staring at the books.

“Coming,” Pandora picked more things off the shelf, filling a second bag she had grabbed. There was quite a collection of graphic novels as well, she grabbed some to give to Carl. This place had been a good score. Moving towards the front door, she found herself back at the clothes. She couldn’t help but picture Daryl in some of the band shirts. She decided it would be a way to say she was sorry for advancing on him. Picking a few, she packed them away in her second bag.

Outside, they were waiting for her. Rick and Daryl were leaning against the car which was packed to the brim. Even the back seat was pilled high with boxes, leaving her standing there wondering where she was going sit. Brown eyes flickered to a box in the back where a small camping radio sat, it looked like it had solar charging panels on top. Daryl must have gotten it for her, she forgot to think about how she would play all her new CDs.

“Here lemme take it.” Daryl was slipping up beside her, slipping the bags from her arm. Watching him open the back door she wondered where he was going to even fit her stuff. Somehow, he found a way to pile it on top, blocking the view of the back window.

“Where am I going to fit?” She questioned, peering through the backseat window. There was definitely no room for her back there.

Rick chuckled a bit, opening the driver’s door for himself, “Gonna have to squeeze up here with us. I wasn’t expecting this much stuff.”

Anxiety rolled in her belly, but she couldn’t argue since she couldn’t just stay behind. Another day, she wouldn’t have blinked at the forced closeness, it was always fine. After just now, she was not so sure. Did he want to be that close to her?

None of her inner thoughts mattered because Daryl was already opening the passenger door for her. Sighing, she slipped in, pressing herself as far into the middle console as she could. Daryl followed behind her but he didn’t try to put space between them. Instead, he put his arm around her, shifting her frame so that one leg was draped over his. This only made her even more confused, but his body pressed against hers always had the same calming effect on her. Despite the unfinished moment before, she found herself uncoiling her tight muscles and curling up against him.

The ride back was fast and to be fair she wasn’t sure she was relieved. Michonne was on gate duty, waving as they pulled in past her. They went right to the pantry and Olivia came out to greet them. She had her clipboard ready, writing down everything that passed her. She didn’t hand over her two bags though, those she brought with her into the house.

Back in her room, she put all the clothes away, hiding his gifts within her own. She rushed back out to help them unload the rest of the car. Pandora spent a few moments talking with Olivia who filled another basket for her to take back home. She sighed, shifting the basket in her arms as she turned to leave. The car was gone already, parked back outside. Rick disappearing the moment the work was finished. She passed the rest of the silent homes of her group. At the end of the row, her house had a light on inside.

For a moment, she considered not going inside, going to Rosita’s instead, or Abraham’s. The thought of being alone with Daryl was suddenly too much for her. She had gone over that moment in the store more times than she would like to count. She must have been misreading him, must have been confused about something she had seen on his face. He wasn’t thinking the same things she was and that was fine, or it would be fine in a few days.

Pandora had the basket though and some things needed to be in the fridge. The rational part of her mind won out as she headed towards the door. Slipping in the front door, she brought her basket to the kitchen to start loading what she had been given into the fridge. Daryl stood over the stove, tossing a pan of veggies and whole black beans into a pan.

Glancing over his shoulder he said, “Go put that away and come back, the food is almost ready.”

She did as she was told, putting her empty basket into the pantry. There was already two bowls of food in his hands when she finished. He gestured to the drinks, and she picked them up to bring into the living room.

On the sofa, she curled up to him, leaving almost no space between them. He was like the sun, she couldn’t help get pulled into him. For a long while they ate in silence, it was so normal that it made her heart ache. It wasn’t until they were both half way through their bowls that he started to speak.

“Yah did good today.”

Pandora only scoffed, rolling her eyes and picturing herself ripping off the blood-stained clothes with him watching. Remembering the way she panicked with the dead on top of her, she hadn’t even thought about saving herself. Willfully she ignored the moment of closeness, they both danced around it.

“I lost my shit. Again.” She mumbled, spooning more food into her mouth so she couldn’t talk.

He moved in closer to her then, pressing himself right onto her. Her body responded like it always did, folding up into all the spaces he left for her. His fingers found the bare skin of her arm, rubbing small circles while drinking the rest of the soup.

Pandora spooned the last of it into her mouth before setting the bowl down on the table in front of her. His frame was resting tightly against her, she loved the feeling the warmth and pressure of him. It was easy to forget all their half finished moments when they were like this.

“Yah didn’t lose it though. Yah held your shit together all damn day till now.” He was leaning down to her lips, tickling her ears as he spoke. “How do you feel?”

A shiver ran through her, starting at her ear and racing down to her toes. Sighing, she half-turned and took his bowl, placing it next to her own on the table. Then, she was moving into him, making more room for herself. Lifting his arms, she wrapped them around herself as she tucked herself into his side.

Beside her he only chuckled, “That good huh.” He didn’t move though, only tightened his arm around her. “It's been a long day. Yah gonna sleep soon?”

Pandora rolled her neck, hearing the cracks and pops from the joints. “I should shower first.” She was sure there was still blood in her hair somewhere despite the braid she had bound it in.

“Your room or mine?” Daryl asked, arms dropping from around her as he stood.

“Mine, but you need to shower first, my bed is clean.”

“Cause yah don’t spend any time in there.”

“Whatever Dixon I call dibs, but you’re right after me.” Pandora was standing too then, padding him lightly on the shoulder as she passed heading up the stairs towards the bathroom.

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Give me some love maybe it will help get the juices flowing a little faster!


	28. Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! I am so so so so sorry for leaving for so long. Life got crazy. I got married! which is amazing but a lot of planning and time went into that. I also had some hard core writers block for the longest time. I did think about breaking this up into two chapters but since I have been gone for so long have a super long chapter to keep you all happy!  
> As always thank you to my wonderful Beta reader! Who put up with me stressing for this chapter for ever.

 

Another week of their new life passed. Pandora joined Daryl on small runs every day and every time she went out, it was better. They never had a repeat of her episode in the strip mall. Instead, she trained harder. Pandora explained what happened to Rosita who had then changed how they trained. They worked on building and strengthening her muscles so that she could take down the harder walkers. Life around them continued on as usual though, every day looking much like the last one. Pandora just continued to get stronger and go to therapy every day.

That day held most of the same morning training with Rosita, therapy with Denise and then nothing. In the end of her day when she usually did nothing, she found herself outside with Daryl who was going over the bike.

Dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved sweater she lounged on the steps behind him. The sun was still high in the sky; it wasn’t even noon yet. Therapy had been shorter than usual as Denise’s mind had been elsewhere and Pandora was longing to be out in the sun since the warmth was so fleeting these days.

“You never looked in there before?” Pandora asked as she pulled her hair into a tight braid. She pulled her hair a bit too tight, but the pain that sent little shocks through her scalp only served to sharpen her focus.

“Naw, never thought about it.” Daryl mumbled, pulling the little sack out from under the bike.

Pandora only nodded, watching him take the little carved figure from the bag. It was Dwight’s, she remembered that now. Daryl had taken it from him when they gave the bag back. He had forgotten she was even there, she could tell by the way his face fell. Teeth bit nervously into the skin of her lip as she stepped back, slipping into the shadow of the porch. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to talk to him right now. She wanted to hold him, fold him up in her arms and tell him it was going to be ok. She knew the battle he was having within himself. He saved those people, and they almost killed them. Almost killed her that was what he worried about. It should upset her that he cared more for her life than his own, but didn’t it go both ways? She didn’t even need to ask that of herself if it was her life or his she would pick him.

Pandora almost wrapped her arms around him until Carol started coming up from down the street. Despite herself and the relationship they had formed, Pandora found the slightest stiffness in her muscles. Carol had been off in the time since they had been back. Pandora had seen the distant look in her eyes that she often saw in the mirror, it was unsettling.

“Didn’t even notice. You got your bike back.”

That was an odd thing to say since they had been back for weeks now. Not that Carol had been present really, wandering Alexandria like a ghost. That was something she expected from herself, not from Carol considering how strong she was.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, Pandora strained to hear it from where she sat, ever the silent observer.

Breathing deeply, she slipped up behind him, knees bumping in his back. She reached her hand out to his shoulder lightly, she felt him shift and relax under her touch. Touching between had increased in the last week or so, the contact calmed her down. Pandora was surprised to learn it did the same for Daryl.

“You got another one of those?” He asked, pointing at the lit cigarette in Carol’s hand.

Carol shifted, fishing a pack out of her pocket. She pulled one out handing it to him and one to Pandora. They shared a brief nod as Carol handed her the lighter, Pandora took a deep drag, lighting it before handing it back.

“Those people you met, the ones in the burnt forest, they took it from you?” Carol turned to Daryl, eyes fixed on him.

The ash at the end of her cigarette reminded her of the burnt forest, of waking up with her hands bound, of the panic tightly coiled in her belly. In her mouth, Pandora could taste the burnt air of the forest. In the briefest moment when she closed her eyes the images of her capture with the gun in her face played behind her eyelids. Her fingers tightened around his shoulder and instantly his hand was on hers, fingers tangling in her own as he answered with another

“Yeah.”

“You saved them, right?” Carol asked.

Pandora had to close her eyes. When she did, the moment of Dwight’s betrayal started playing behind her eyelids. Her grip on Daryl tightened, but he didn’t seem to mind, tightening his grip on her the same way.

“Sorry.” Carol’s voice sounds small in her ears. “It’s who you are. We’re still stuck with that.”

Daryl rubs circles on the back of her hand, “No, we ain’t. I should’ve killed em, for what they did to us, to her.” His head jerked towards her. She tried not to look right at him, hiding her eyes under strands of hair. She obviously failed as his eyes pull her in, their gaze is locked now, and her stomach is doing tiny flips when he finally turns away. They lasp into silence. Why did Carol care what Daryl had done to the man, Dwight.  Daryl should have killed them, she should have killed them. You don’t get to live when you do things like that, you just don’t. If she saw them again she would kill them that was something she knew for sure.

The silence started to get tense around them before Carol stood up, placing the pack from her pocket on the step beside him.

“Hey,” Daryl called her back. “The ones that took you and Maggie, what’d they do to you?”

Pandora stiffened at his tone, but doesn’t say anything. Her eyes travel to Carol’s face, what she sees there is broken. Carol hangs onto her composure, but just barely, Pandora can tell.

“To us? They didn’t do anything.” Carol turns away, but Pandora catches a flash of emotions across her face.

As Carol leaves, Pandora stands up from her seat, flicking the butt of her cigarette on the grass in front of them. Pandora slips into the seat beside Daryl, pressing herself a bit tighter to him. Daryl puts his arms around her shoulders, tucking her frame under his shoulder.  

“We should go for a ride.”

Pandora nods, “Yes please.” The words come out as a breathy whisper.

He lets her go to heads for the bike, kicking up the stand and starting it. Moving to the end of the driveway, she tipped her face upwards, letting the few rays of sun warm her skin. Letting her eyes fall shut she stood still for a few seconds until the rumble of Daryl’s bike floated towards her. Opening her eyes, she looked at him on the road. He sat under the bike holding it up with his weight, he was watching her too. Blinking, she jogged down the rest of the way to slip on the seat of the bike behind him.

They drove for a while, just enjoying the wind and the silence. She wondered what Daryl was thinking about, Carol, probably. He worried about her almost as much as he worried about Pandora. They had been part of their group from the beginning from what she understood, Daryl had met her on the road in Atlanta. They had a deeper relationship, something born from hard times and a sameness in them. She would be lying if she said the ease of their relationship didn’t bother her.

 When they finally stopped, the silence still stretched between them. Daryl pulled the bike off the road and onto the soft grass. Trees stretched out around them for miles, tops reaching up to the sun. He pulled a water bottle from the bag on the bike, handing it to her before easing down onto the grass.

“Thanks for taking me.” Pandora whispered, handing the bottle back to him. She sat next to him, fingers skimming the grass under her. From the corner of her eye she watched him put the bottle in the little bag on the bike.

“Anything for you.” The answer comes so quickly she almost isn’t sure he had heard what she said. But no, she said thank you, and he said he would do anything for her. It shouldn’t surprise her, really.

She leaned against him, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. They stay like that for a while, pressed tightly together in their silence.

“Ready?” Daryl finally asks as sound starts to float towards them. The sound of the dead she’s almost sure.

“Ya” Pandora stood, brushing off the back of her pants while she waited for him. She found herself watching him as he got onto the bike, bringing it roaring to life under him. She could tell he was still lost somewhere in his own thoughts as there was a faraway look in his eyes. She didn’t comment on it though, only slipped up behind him to wrap her arms tightly around his middle.

They were rolling through the gates in no time and around them Alexandria was bustling with early evening activity. As they pulled into the driveway, Rick appeared on the sidewalk.

Daryl only nodded at him before rolling into the garage. Once they parked the bike, they left together to meet Rick who was still waiting at their driveway.

“Dinner at my place tonight?” Rick asked, hand in his pocket  as he glanced at Daryl.

Pandora found herself smiling, “I would love to.”

To her right, Daryl chuckled and bumped her shoulder lightly, “Guess we’re coming over.”

Rick nodded, a small smile tugging his lips as well, “See you in an hour.”

Pandora turned, dashing inside and up the stairs. She needed to shower and change before they headed over as she hadn’t showered after her training. It didn’t really bother her when she was just hanging around, but now that she was going to dinner, she couldn’t go like this.

“Where ya going?” Daryl called out to her from the front door.

“Shower!” She answered, throwing him a glance over her shoulder. “You can go after me!”

“Ah don’t need to shower.”

Stopping mid-way up the stairs she turned, eyebrows raised and head tilting to the side in question. “Really?”

“What?” He looked truly puzzled in that moment, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shower Daryl, then put on clean clothes I washed a bunch of your stuff.”

“Yah didn’t seem to mind a second ago.” He mumbled, heading for the living room.

Her shower took no time; she had left her outfit in the bathroom so she could change before she came out. Pandora had found a pair of light jeans and one of the new shirts she had gotten from the store in the strip mall. In her room, she combed her hair out, styling it with some no frizz cream she had found that day as well. Perks of going out on the runs was that she got first dibs on all the good stuff.

Her reflection looked better than it had in weeks. The bags under her eyes had disappeared, leaving nothing but unmarked, caramel skin. Her face had filled in more, taking on more of the round shape she had before all of this started. She looked more like herself, more like the pictures of her face in the magazine they now kept in their living room. Her outside was a little more reflective of how she was feeling inside.

“Pandora? You ready or what?” Daryl’s voice called up to her from somewhere on the main floor.

Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair again before leaving.

“Ya, ya I’m coming.” She muttered, stepping from the bathroom door.

At the bottom of the stairs she stopped, breath stuck in her throat as she took in the sight of him. He was already standing at the door dressed in dark jeans and one of the new t-shirts she had picked up for him. Of course, he had put his vest on over it, but she knew he hardly ever took that off. The t-shirt though fit his frame, perfectly hugging him a little more snuggly than his usual outfits did, and she had no problem with that. He was looking down, eyes fixed on the nervous tap of his foot so he didn’t seem to notice her staring. It wasn’t until she cleared her throat that he finally looked up at her.

“What?” He asked, pushing some of the hair from his eyes. “Got shit on my face?”

“No, no.” The words caught in her mouth, tripping over each other to get out. “You look great.”

He flushed, turning away from her to open the front door, “Let’s go.”

She wandered out first, using the sounds of the party to guide her to Rick’s house. When she stepped inside, everyone was already there, everyone expect Rosita. Pandora noticed her absence right away, it tugged at her chest, causing her fingers to curl into fists. Rosita should be here, this was her family, she belonged with them.

She forced herself to look around though, making a mental note to visit Rosita tomorrow. In the living room Michonne bounced Judith on her hip, laughing with Glenn and Maggie. Carol was in the kitchen with Rick, doing what? Pandora couldn’t be sure. The rest of the space in the living room was taken up by Abraham sitting next to Sasha, Carl opposite them and Morgan speaking in hushed low tones toward the back of the room with Father Gabriel.  

The whole scene was so normal, despite the fact that she found herself frozen in the front entry way, unable to make her body move forward. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be there because she really did. She felt stuck, like entering a scene where she didn’t quite belong, or hearing a conversation that was a little too personal.

Behind her the door opened again, the hand on her made her jump despite the lightness of it.

“Pandora? Going in?” Denise was behind her, fingers lightly brushing her arm. “What number are you feeling?”

Pandora was so caught up in trying to think about what number she’s on and why that she doesn’t even notice Denise leading her gently into the room.

“I’m a three.” Pandora finally answered when she had been moved to the living room. Daryl was beside her then, a beer in one hand, the other hand moving to cup her elbow.

“You good?” He asked, leaning down gently towards her ear.

“She’s a three.” Denise answered for her when her own silence had gone on for too long. The Doctor was gone then, moving into the kitchen to call a greeting to Rick.

Blinking Pandora looked up at Daryl, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“S’alright come sit.” He was moving her again like Denise had, with a gentle hand on her elbow.

Once she was in the living room, Daryl found her a space on the sofa beside Abraham. Beside her, Abraham didn’t turn to speak to her as he was wrapped up in his conversation with Sasha, but patted her leg gently in a way of acknowledgement.  The moment she sat down, Michonne was passing Judith into her arms. The presence of the little girl always had a grounding effect on her.

In her lap, Judith cooed, reaching her chubby hands up for Pandora’s loose curls.

“Hey little lady, what are you doing?” Pandora whispered, taking her hand and covering it in tiny kisses. Judith smiled at her blue eyes bright under wisps of blond hair.

“Hey little ass kicker.” Daryl’s deep drawl rumbled from beside her. He sat on the arm of the sofa, reaching down to ruffle her hair. “This little girl is one of the best things left in this fucking world.” He mumbled, stroking her head gently.

Pandora couldn’t help but turn her head up, locking eyes with him. His face became redder and as he takes a sip of beer, he uses the chance to break eye contact with her.

The evening was great, as the conversation swells around the table Pandora listens calmly, leaning gently into Daryl’s arm. She joins in sometimes as well, adding a comment or laughing at a joke. With every passing moment she feels more at ease.

After dinner, the cooling night air finds Pandora and Daryl outside, lounging on the porch to smoke. Daryl was sitting on the railing, leaning on the post with Pandora standing behind him, half-hidden in the shadow. Every puff from the cigarette shone dim light on her face. The evening had been nice but as always, anxiety gets the best of her, causing her to need a space to think and cool back down. Blinking, she watches the walls in the distance, almost sure she can make out the figure on top pacing.

Was something out there? A mass moving in the darkness causing the guard to become uneasy. Despite herself, she pictures wolves scaling the walls and pouring in like ants to swarm over their home. Part of her knows she is being irrational, but panic claws up her chest. Her mind drifts too much, so she doesn’t know her cigarette is out until its burning her fingers. Hissing, she tosses it away, popping the two burnt fingers into her mouth.

“Did yah have fun?” Daryl asked her as he started getting up to take her by the arm and pull her to lean on the wall. The doomsday scenario that was playing out in her head was gone, the brush of his fingers on her arm chased it away.

It’s dark around them now and Daryl has pulled her more into the darkness. He has his back resting on the wall of the house, his arms around her as Pandora had tucked herself into his chest. It’s the grounding she is always craving, the heat of his skin and firm pressure of his arms reminded her to stay at the moment. He must read her mind.

“Ya thanks for bringing me.” She replied.

“You said you were going before Ah did.” Daryl said.

Pandora only laughed, turning her head to press her cheek against his chest, his grip on her tightened a fraction and she sagged against the pressure. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, blinks becoming longer and slower.

“Yah ready to head home?” He asked finally, she wondered if he could see her face from this angle. Maybe he was just a mind reader, he always seemed to know what she was thinking.

“Ya I guess, I’m kind of tired.” She responded.

“Come on then, let’s say bye.” Daryl said as he started to move her again, letting his arms fall away and slipping out from behind her. Pandora stifled a sigh, would have been better just to slip away right now. The noise of the house was beginning to wear her down. She didn’t say anything though, only stepped back inside behind him.

“Daryl! Come here. Look what we found.” Rick is leaning out into the living room from the kitchen, holding a bottle in his hand.

“Gonna head home.” Daryl said as he still moved towards him though, Pandora slipping up beside him to follow, his ever silent shadow.

In the kitchen everyone is gathered, Rick had shot glasses lined up and a bottle of tequila in his hand.

“One for the road?” Rick asks, holding an empty glass.

Daryl is looking at her now, running his hand over the stubble on his chin. Pandora doesn’t speak, only nods to tell him that it’s fine.

Pandora is watching Rick fill all the little glasses, she counts everyone around the counter then the glasses, noticing that there isn’t one for her. Again, she glances up around the counter as Abraham meets her eyes, a grin splits his face.

“Missing one for the kid.” He tells Rick, patting her on the shoulder.

Pandora grins at him taking an empty glass and holding it out for Rick to fill. She watches him look to Daryl first and sees a silent conversation playing between them. She is sure someone is about to comment on how the mentally unstable woman suffering from PTSD probably shouldn’t drink, but no one does. Daryl only sighs and waves his hand for Rick to pour it.

Everyone grabs their glass, she admits to only herself that her hand shakes ever so slightly when she reaches for hers. What could one shot even do to her though? She doesn’t give herself much time to think about it, just opens her mouth and drinks.

The shot burns like fire all the way down and by the time it reaches her stomach, she is sputtering and coughing, doubled over with her hands wrapped around her middle. Around her laughter erupts, Abraham’s deep laugh vibrates around her as he pats her on her back gently.

“You’re alright kid, just take a deep breath.”

The fire subsides enough for her to stand up straight without coughing. The liquid is still there though, turning her belly into a fire pit. Daryl is at her side then, pushing a glass of water into her hand. She takes it, using small sips to calm the burning.

Around her everyone is mulling about again, conversation swelling around her. Blinking past the tears in her vision, she wipes her eyes and sets the glass on the counter. Daryl is at her side like always. As she moves her eyes to look at his the expression on his face shocks her. He looks amused, lips upturned into a small smile. She would have assumed he would be pissed, pissed that she had taken the drink in the first place and that she clearly couldn’t handle it. Instead, there was a lightness in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since that day in the clearing when he had come back from dealing with the Saviours.

“Now I think I’m ready to go.” She says, laughing, which is surprising to her. Turning to look at the rest of the group she takes a minute to catch up, wavering on her feet. After so long with not drinking, a shot was probably not the best idea she had ever had.

“Too late now.” She says out loud before stopping herself.

“What?” Daryl asks, leaning into her to hold her elbow firmly.

“Nothing, nothing.” Waving, she called out her goodbye, voice carrying over the din of conversation. A few people looked up, surprised maybe to hear her so loudly. Maybe drinking was a good thing.

Daryl started pulling her away which she was grateful for. Her limbs were beginning to feel too light, jerking too far with every movement she was trying to make. They were home in no time.

“Come’on, bed.” Daryl said as he was pulling the front door shut behind him. Sleep was the last thing she wanted to do though. He was already moving though, heading for their bedrooms.

“No, come on” Pandora’s plea was a long whine as she grabbed for him, stopping his movement towards the stairs. He stopped even though she was sure that she wasn’t holding hard enough to actually stop him.

He does stop though, turning to watch her from under a few strands of hair. “What do yah want then?”

His question is more loaded than he knows, or maybe he does because he is looking at her with a look that she is sure can look right into her soul. Swallowing hard, she tenses, fingers digging into the hard flesh of his arm.

“To look at the stars.” She says finally, not sure how else she could prolong the evening.

Daryl doesn’t answer, only removes her fingers from his arm to take her hand, leading her towards the back door. Pandora followed, hand gripping his. The alcohol inside her was making her feel light and happy.

When they step outside her hand slips from his, bouncing down the back steps to the small patch of grass that was their backyard. They didn’t have much green space, their small townhouse was directly in front of the wall. It was small, but lended itself to privacy, something they both held as a high priority.  Collapsing down onto the soft grass she spread out her arms around her. The grass felt cool and damp underneath her outstretched fingers. Her breath escaped her in a deep sigh and beside her she could hear Daryl lowering himself onto the ground beside her. He didn’t lay down, she noted, turning her head to the side.

“This is what yah wanted?” He asked, turning towards her with his eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” her answer was came quickly. Turning, she looked up at the clear sky. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the stars shone with a brightness she was sure wasn’t there before the world ended. “I feel good, I’m not ready to end the day yet.”

His chuckle was soft beside her, but he didn’t say anything.

Minutes ticked by in silence, finally Pandora pulled herself up to sit beside him and press her frame against his.

“I can’t believe one shot is my limit.” She muttered, rubbing at her eyes, everything seemed to feel different. She wasn’t even sure how to put it into words.

“Can’t believe Ah let you take even one shot.” He muttered, shaking his head.

“I have to live sometimes you know,” Grinning, she turned her face up to him and lifted his arm to tuck herself under it. He moved, shifting to make room her tucked in beside him.

“Besides life has been pretty boring these days you have to admit.” She said.

“Ah like boring, it’s safe.” Daryl answered, he shifted a fraction until her head was tucked into his chest. The change in position triggered a sag in her frame, every muscle relaxing at once in his arms.

They sat in silence for a while, every so often Daryl would shift beside her.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked him

Daryl shifted again, this time he rested his head against hers, “Yah this is nice.” He pulled her tighter again, arm draped heavily over her shoulders. She felt him move his other hand, so it rested on her tight as he drew tiny circles on the material of her jeans. Shutting her eyes she tried to imagine he was drawing pictures on her.

This was almost too good, there was part of her that was waiting for the other shoe to drop: for the dead to come streaming over the walls, or the wolves with their blades and carved foreheads. Under her skin her muscles grew tight at the thought of something shattering their moment.

It was almost too much for her to believe that she would be allowed something like this. After all that she had done, all the people she killed and all the ones she left behind. But here she was, safe and happy, held tightly in Daryl’s arms.

The heat that gathered under his hand spread slowly outward to every inch of her skin, pulling her back to the present moment. She had never been one for drugs or alcohol but with him she could understand addiction. She needed him, needed to be close to him, to touch him because it kept her grounded. Without him, her skin itched, her mind was unable to focus, it was an addiction.  Moving  her head, she stared at him, or tried to. The sun had long set, leaving his face hidden in shadow. She could see him though, his face burned into her memory after so long. Pandora didn’t even really notice that they were moving until his breath, warm and soft, tickled her face. Pandora could make him out now that he was closer to her, the storm in her eyes reflected in his own. Fingers reaching for him, she brushed her thumb along his chin.

They moved together then, neither one of them taking the lead over the other, both in sync. The kiss was soft, like everything was with Daryl. With his lips pressed lightly against her own, she sighed against him. It wasn’t fireworks or lights, it was a slow burning in the pit of her stomach. A dull heat pooling and spreading like water. Every nerve buzzed, her fingers burying themselves in the strands of hair at the base of his neck, trying to pull him tighter. Pressing herself tighter to him, she tried to deepen the kiss, mouth opening just a fraction. He stopped her then, hands firm on her shoulders pushing her away.

Pandora found herself gasping in the absence of his lips. Her other hand which had found its way to his chest fell away into the space between them. She could taste him still, feel the presence of his lips on her own. Fire coiled tight in her belly, nerves sparking with electricity.

He had stopped her, meaning she had done something wrong. In her veins, her blood sung, she longed for a moment to just be that close again. Daryl was sliding away from her though, so she moved as well, forcing herself away from him. Shame flared suddenly, hot and bright inside her, her brain skipped over and over like a bad battery.

Suddenly she was picturing a new life, different from the one they had now. Where the lines of their relationship were drawn deep in the ground. She pictured nights alone in her own bed, waking from nightmares without his arms to bring her back. It scared her, stealing the breath right from her lungs and leaving her gasping.

“I, I, I, I.” She couldn’t form a sentence, couldn’t fit the words to say what she needed. Her hand shot up, tracing the shape of her lips, feeling where his has touched her own. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, lowering her head, hair falling over her eyes.

Slipping out from under his arm, Pandora put more space between them. Beside her Daryl was still stiff, and she was moving, turning and getting ready to stand. It had happened again, just like in the store she had gotten too caught up at the moment. Space, some space would help. She felt him touching her before she saw it, his hand clasped around her wrist freezing her in place half standing.

“Don’t” He whispered. With a tug she was beside him again, tumbling into his lap. Hands moved then, hers and his. He brushed her chin, fingers moving to curl in her hair. Her breath escaped in a quiet sigh. She had almost forgotten what had happened a moment ago when he pushed her away. Her head leaning back, relaxing into him. “Don’t go.” Daryl’s whisper is barely audible. He’s tilting his head towards her now, lips leaving tiny kisses along her chin. “Ah didn’t mean that. Had to be sure.”

She isn’t really sure what he means by that, but she isn’t sure she cares either. His lips trail down her neck, each kiss leaving a tiny fire behind in its place. Her body is limp and boneless in his arms, “Daryl.” She whispers his name like a prayer, not sure what she is even praying for. She reached out for him again, fingers trailing down his cheek. Shifting, she tangles them in his hair as he leans his face in kissing her. He doesn’t shy away this time, instead gives into the moment, mouth pressing firmly down on her own.

Her lips open just a fraction to let her tongue dart out and taste him. He tastes just like she thought he would: cigarette smoke, tequila and home. He opens his mouth to her then, her tongue brushing his teeth causing him to make a sound into her mouth. She can feel a groan in the pit of her stomach. In that moment she knew this would change everything. Now that she had him like this, she was never going to be happy with anything else. There was no way they could go back to before, quick touches and stolen moments. When she breaks away from him she’s gasping, needing the fresh air.

Leaning forward their foreheads touch, faces impossibly close. This seemed so important, this one moment, she wants to stay here for a while. She wants to commit everything to memory, every detail: the grin on his face, the light in his eyes. It’s important she knows, because moments like this one don’t come often. She doesn’t speak, but her hands never stop moving, they are trailing his jaw, twisting his hair between her fingers. His hands are moving too, rubbing lazy circles on the small of her back where he held her in place in his lap.

Above them, the sky opens up and rain drops began falling. It’s nice, the cool water putting out the fire that is her skin.

Daryl is grinning down at her, wide smile splitting his face. He looks years younger with that smile, she wants to see him like this always. His lips are moving, she is sure he is speaking to her, but the words never reach her. Until she hears, “Time for bed.” That had her nodding in agreement, she wants nothing more than him in the dark. She doesn’t seem to notice the rain around her, water seeping into the layers of her clothes.

He is lifting her then, supporting almost all her weight as they move back inside. Before she knows it they are in her room and he is pulling the sheets down before leaning down to take his boots off. It was hard to remember what had happened between outside and here. Especially when he was pulling off his vest with the shirt following it not long after. She imagined how warm he must be and her fingers began to work again to pull off her own clothes. It takes her a few tries to work the button on her jeans, mind distracted by this new place she finds herself in. Getting ready for bed this time is different, the humming in her blood sets it apart and the eagerness to be closer to him is stronger than usual. She slipped under the covers in boy shorts and a tank top. He joined her, dipping the mattress under his weight.

Silence stretched around them as they laid in the dark. Pandora found herself uneasy, suddenly not sure of what to do next. Different things to say whirled around in her head, thoughts like tiny flies she couldn’t pin down. It was disturbing not to know where to go next, what to do with this new information she had been given. Like always, Daryl knew. She felt him shift to close the space between them until she could feel his warmth.

“S'lright?” His voice carried over to her in the darkness.

She tried to open her mouth and speak, she really did, but emotions rolled inside her, shutting her throat. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath to let her body do the speaking for her. Blankets pulled up to her chin, she slipped up to him, frame tangling with his own. Her free arm wrapped around his chest pressing tight to his side. The feeling was different, she had to admit. This new place they both found themselves in was somewhere she never thought she would be again. Yet there it was, the blooming warmth in her chest spreading from her core and out to her limbs.

Beside her Daryl shifted, pulling her closer to him. His movements were softer than usual as if he was frightened that he would break her if he moved too quickly or held too tightly. Tight was what she needed though, tight was safe, tight was grounded. So she tried to show him without telling him, pressing herself even tighter into him. He knew what she needed, he always did and when he tightened his arms she sighed, letting her eyes slip closed.

Daryl’s hand found the small of her back, rubbing slow, deliberate circles there. It sent shivers through her, a buzzing electricity running a current under her skin. It felt good, it felt normal, like this was how it was supposed to be. There was a rightness about this moment, how long had she waited to have him like this? It was hard to even remember when the gratitude at being saved turned into something else, but it had.

Without opening her eyes, she sighed, “Sleep.” She whispered. Tangling her hand under his arm, she entwined her fingers with his, keeping his hand still. The day was too heavy suddenly, pulling every part of her body down under its weight. She was so tired now like she had run too fast, for too long. Sleep pulled at her now but she was dimly aware of Daryl’s voice in the darkness. She felt the feeling of his lips placing soft kisses on her head.

What a thing to fall asleep to, she thought, fingers tightening around his a fraction, ‘Maybe I’m dreaming.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, they kissed finally! I have been in agony over this for so long I cant even tell you. I swear I re wrote it 10 times before I got the final product. Please tell me what you think! I love you all!!


	29. Just a moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! So the posting is going to be a little less frequent as my beta reader and up and moved to the other side of the world *cries*   
> I liked writing this chapter so I hope you all enjoy reading it! I'm so excited for where this story is heading.

 

The morning light finds them still in bed, nothing but a tangle of limbs and sheets. They seemed frozen, unmoving in their perfect moment. Sunlight didn’t care about how happy they looked, it shone hot and bright through the curtains. The light tickles her eyelids, Pandora finds her eyes flickering open hand coming up to cover them. Beside her Daryl shifted still sleeping, pulling her closer hiding his face in her hair. With a sigh, she relaxed against his hold but couldn’t close her eyes again.

Pandora allowed the stillness to wash over her as she stared at him. This was something she had rarely seen, Daryl so calm and relaxed. He looked so much younger like this, deep worry lines fading away in his sleep. He slept deeply still with her frame pressed against him he didn’t even stir at her small movements. Unable to help herself, she leaned her head upwards lips brushing the stubble of  his chin.

That was the movement that woke him, she felt the change in his breathing the slight shift in his muscles. He was tightening his arms around her, blue eyes blinking open slowly.

“Mornin’” He whispered it into her hair and face pressed against her head.

“Hi.” Her response was mumbled since she had now pressed her face in the hollow of his neck. They stayed like that unmoving curled up together for a while longer. She couldn’t bring herself to move as if that would bring them back to reality.

“Yah gonna get up?”

Pandora laughed fingers tangling in the material of his shirt. “No, let's stay here. Just us.” She wants him to stay like this, warm and relaxed pressed against him.

Daryl doesn’t answer her, only makes a sound in his throat before pulling her in tighter. She feels his fingers under her chin, and she is going slack allowing him to move her head. She stares into his eyes, it's her that closes the gap though. Pressing her lips to his, softer this time wanting to savour him.

He responds with the same softness hand gently cupping her cheek deepening the kiss. There is a stirring in her chest, she is almost sure she is going to explode with the pressure of it. She opens her mouth a fraction enough for her tongue to peek out. The moment she licked his lip he was stopping her, firm hands on her shoulders.

Daryl put space between them watching her through strands of his hair. Blinking hard she ran her finger lightly on her lips missing the sensation of him.

“Are you  ok?” She asked craning her head to get closer to him. Daryl lifted his hand to her face stroking it with gentle fingers. He closed his eyes hands running over her face as if he was trying to memorize her. She tried to move her head enough to kiss him again, but he dodged her.

“Pan wait,” He pulled himself into a sitting position, eyes still boring holes into her. “Yah ok, right? With this? With me?”

Pandora had to stopped moving for a moment, still herself rather than trying to reach for his lips. She couldn’t quite understand what he was really asking her. Was she ok with what? Kissing him? Was there a universe where he thought she wouldn’t want to kiss him. He had spent the night in her bed, he had woken to her kissing him why would he need to ask.

Pulling the blankets back over herself she curled into his chest again, “I’m fine. I like this, I like you.”

Some of the stiffness she felt in his frame melted as she moved closer. He was still sitting up though unwilling to curl back into the bed with her.

“Ya hungry?” Daryl asked brushing a stray hair from her face. Silently she nodded still curled under the covers. “Stay then lazy Ah'll bring it.” As he got up, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Tucked under the blankets she watched him go only when his figured retired did she sit up in the bed letting the blankets pool around her waist. Her fingers brushed the spot Daryl had just left, it was still warm she wasn’t dreaming after all.

Downstairs she heard him in the kitchen, opening cupboards and what not. She wondered what he was making, not that he could really cook. But since their deal with the Hilltop meals had become more balanced, Hilltop had given them fresh fruit, veggies. Life within the walls was good this was the best anything had been in a long time. 

That piece of information rattled in her brain for a few moments, until it began to grow into something different. Did she deserve anything this good? She thought about the families they had left in the apartment building, the children she had left in favor of her own family.

Shame flared choking off her air, her hands shook as she tried to press her eye lids. In her head Denise’s voice sounds delivering clear in instructions for beating the panic.

“Take a step back.” She told herself out loud. Like a movie she paused the thoughts trying to stop them, put them away somewhere else.

She had done what she had to do to get to this place. Not everyone can be saved. Besides, she had been punished, enough hadn’t she? Wasn’t this the small light at the end of a tunnel she had been fighting so hard for? It was and if anyone fucking deserved this she did.

But still sometimes her mind was a dangerous place and in the dark corners voices always whispered to her, calling her the monster.

In the time, it took for her to calm down Daryl came back. He only had to glance at her sitting up knees pulled into her chest to know she was panicking. Whatever he held in his hands he left on the side table filling his arms with her instead. Pressed against him panic began to leach from her muscles. She counted slowly breath in five, breath out five, and again and again until his voice stopped her.

“Yah ok?” His voice rumbled inside her rib cage.

Silent she nodded against him pressing her head deeper into his chest. She was better, the panic no longer tried to make its home inside her chest anymore. Her breathing had become a slow steady intake a breath again.

“Come ‘on them eat.”

Daryl shifted a fraction only to lean over and reach for the bowls, he kept her close though tucking her under his free arm.  they sat in silence eating the oatmeal and fresh fruit he brought. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened and he didn’t seem inclined to ask. Which suited her fine really.

Some days were better than others always. But this was too different. Sure, she wanted it. Whatever this new relationship they had entered but still her brain rebelled against anything new, be it good or bad. This was oh so good though, having him just like this. She stole glances at him from over the rim of her bowl, he caught her a few times but he only turned red shaking his head at her.

“Can we go for a ride?”

Outside their open window there was the sounds of their little town coming alive. Usually it was calming but today, today she didn't want any part of it. The room was too hot suddenly and the idea of all the eyes outside of this room was unsettling.  She wanted to be alone with him, to sort out some of her head in silence.

“Ain’t you gotta see Rosita and the Doc?”

Daryl asked taking the empty bowl she has forgotten in her hands. She watched him place them on his nightstand.

The last thing she wanted to do was therapy. She didn’t feel like explaining last night's events to anyone yet. Not even Denise. Just the image of Denise making notes in her book made her angry. Sometimes she felt like a science experiment. Her trauma went in that book nothing else, not the happy things. She hated the idea of putting her and Daryl in the fucking book. 

“No.” Slipping from the bed she grabbed a random assortment of clothing and headed for the bathroom to change. Daryl could never say no to her anyway, he would take her no matter what.

When she stepped back out of the bathroom the room was empty, bed made dirty dishes gone. Her stomach tightened daily living activities still escaped her notice sometimes, it was all too easy for her to get lost in her own head. 

Leaving her room, she wandered downstairs, she finds Daryl in the kitchen drying the last of the dishes he had washed. 

“I am terrible at housekeeping.” Pandora muttered leaning on the counter arms tightly crossed over her chest.

Daryl left the towel on the counter and came to her. His arms looped around her waist pulling her close.

“Ah got it, for both of us.”

“Daryl Dixon a man full of surprises.” Her tone was light despite the shame she felt curling in her gut. She eyed him through the hair that had fallen in front of her face. He was smiling down at her just a small one the corner of his mouth lifting an itch.

“Can Ah?”

She didn’t let him finish only kissed him again harder this time and he sighed into her mouth.

“Ah could get use to this.” He said when they broke apart, he pressed his forehead to hers, “We should go then before someone comes looking for yah.”

Pandora doesn’t waste a moment only tangles her fingers her in his and pulls him towards the door. They are peeling out of the gate before anyone really notices they’re gone.

They roll back into Alexandria some hours later, passing Rosita and Spencer speaking outside Rosita’s place. Daryl lets her slip off the bike as he puts it away leaving her standing in their driveway. A pang of interest makes her turn to watch Rosita again but when Spencer turns to leave, Spencer catches her eye, she looks away. As she turns back to Rosita, she realizes she are outside medical, and that Denise is coming to the door. Both women turn to them eyes fixed on what she can assume is Daryl behind her. Denise waves and gestures at them, Pandora is sure she is about to ask where she has been so she heads towards them Daryl behind her hand on the small of her back.

There is already a conversation happening when they step towards them, and Pandora is trying to puzzle out the looks of both Denies’ and Rosita’s face. The mix of emotion on them both is hard for her to understand finally she stops trying. Wrapping her arm inside of Daryl’s she tries to get the rest of the conversation.

“After I got out of DC, I just drove. I remember seeing it right when I had no idea where I was going. Then I saw it Edison’s Apothecary and Boutique. It’s just this little gift shop in a strip mall, but if it's really an apothecary they had drugs.”

Pandora knows right away what Denise wants, it's written all over her face the despiration. Denise wants to go outside of the walls she wants to go with them to that store. Them, her use of the word is so easy, she is part of them now.

“How do you know they still got ‘em? Daryl is quick to be the first to speak, eyes fixed on the doctor.

“It isn’t that far, I just want to check.”

From her spot beside Daryl she pinched him, he stiffens under her but never looked over at her. She was trying to warn him and he was ignoring her, damn it. He has the ability to be gentle to soften the harsh edges of his words, and that is what he needs to do right now.  

“And you and Rosita aren’t out scavenging or pulling shifts.”

Pandora leaned against him harder. Still, he ignores her making no move to pull her closer or push her away. She feels like a child tugging at her parent’s pant leg for attention.

“We’ll go.”

“I wanted to check.” Denise is steeling herself, she had taught Pandora to do the same thing.  “I just wanted to help.”

Daryl isn’t having it he scoffs inching forward towards Denise. “How much time you spend out there?”

“None.”

“Forget it.” Daryl’s turning now, he’s trying to pull Pandora with him. But she wiggles out of his grip and rests her hand on Denise’s arm.

Denise looks down patting Pandora’s hands gently. “I can ID the meds. I know how to use a machete now. I’ve seen roamers up close. I’m ready.”

Pandora wanted to tell her she wasn’t ready, no one would ever be ready.

“You good with this?” He shoots towards Rosita standing behind the Doctor arms crossed stiffly over her chest.

“No.” Rosita snapped her signature sneer on her face.

“I’ll go with you.” Pandora offered in a small voice. Daryl is by her side again her eyes flicker up only to be met with his hard stare.

“Like hell you will.” Daryl growls shaking his head.

“I’ll go alone if I have too!” Denise fired back.

Pandora stood beside Daryl now who was already half turned to leave, clearly finished with the conversation. Pandora could understand this side of Denise, the need to do something, to want to help in some way. She knew the Doctor was the most important person here, but with no one to save every day she was sure if didn’t feel like it.

“You’ll die alone.” Daryl commented in Denise’s direction. Pandora let out a small gasp hitting him in the arm. He looked down at her raising his eyebrows in question knowing he isn’t wrong.

But Denise was unphased, “I’m asking you to make sure I don’t.”

There was a moment of silence, Daryl was looking at her, then allowing his gaze to slide Rosita. He was thinking about it she could tell, with Daryl it was always best to play to his protective side, something Pandora had learned early.

“I’m not babysitting her by myself.” Rosita added hand on her chest.

“I’m coming.” Pandora added her voice stronger now eyes on Daryl challenging him to say something to her. Instead he flung his hands up cursing under her breath storming away from her.

Despite herself she threw a wink in Denise’s direction before running off the join Daryl as he headed towards the house. Behind her Rosita cursed and fumed as well muttering something about more babysitting but the rest she didn’t catch moving to far away.

At the house, she could hear him slamming around his room, she ignored it grabbing a backpack and filling it with supplies. An extra knife tucked into her boots, two more at her waist and gun in its holster. But when she turns to leave her room Daryl is in the doorway, body drawn in a tight line.

“Yah ain’t comin’ “He snaps tone darker laced tight with anger.

Blinking she is somewhat startled at this side of him, but only shakes her head pulling the back tighter on her back. “I’m going, and so are you, and so is Rosita and Denise.”

“Like hell yah are,” He nearly growls the word fingers tightening on the doorframe. “Ah aint takin’ yah out there with them.”

Anger flares up now hot and bright in her chest. She works god damn hard everyday to make sure she can do these things, to make sure she isn’t some sheltered basket case hiding in the walls. Daryl doesn’t get to pick and choose her runs for her.  “And why the hell not? I’ve gone before with you and Rick.”

Daryl is shaking his head hair covering his eyes, he’s trying to control himself she can tell.

“It ain’t the same, Ah don’t gotta watch Rick just you. There too many people coming Pan!” He’s choking on the words brain moving too quick. “Shit goes down Ah gotta get you out. It's always you first, then what happens to Rosita? the Doc? Huh?”

By the time he gets the rest of the sentence out he is breathless and shouting. Pandora is unfazed though slipping up in front of him she snakes her arms around his waist. She can almost touch the tension between them as if it were its own person. He relaxes against her though pressing his face into her hair, breathing slowing down.

“It's always you first.”

“I will be safe. I trust you to keep us all safe.” Letting go of him she grabs his face gently forcing him to look at her now. “I trust you to keep me safe Daryl.”

He kisses her then it's slow, soft and gentle.  But there is something else there a desperation coiled tight, it lurks just there under his skin.

“It ain’t the same anymore.” He whispers forehead resting against hers.

Pandora can’t help but laugh placing another quick kiss on his lips before stepping from the circle of his arms.

“I think it’s been like this for a while." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it! Again I loved writing this chapter, I like playing with the dynamic between Daryl and Pandora with her newly formed independence. We are moving into some really exciting stuff I can't wait to share the next few chapters with you guys! Leave me some love!


	30. Downfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise here I am!! I am sorry about the infrequent posting guys. Still love me? I do hope so. I hope you guys stick with me because we are going places people, and I for one am excited.

The front seat of the pickup truck doesn’t fit all of them. Pandora glanced around and tried to suggest as casually as she could to Rosita to sit in the back so Rosita joins her. She sees the stare Daryl gives her the moment she offers and hopes no one else does. Her head is already full of him, the idea of close quarters with him right now is enough to send her head spinning. She has to be able to think so Pandora settled in the back of the pickup truck, knees tucked tightly into her chest.

“So…” Rosita said from beside her, eyes straight ahead, letting the question hang in the air. Pandora flinched, so everyone had seen the looks pass between her and Daryl.

Pandora thinks for only a moment until she speaks, “I kissed him, last night, this morning, and just now.” She lifts one hand, gripping the side of the truck as it lurches under her. She had half a mind to bang on the glass behind her and ask when Daryl became such a terrible driver, but the sound of Rosita laughing brought her back to the present moment.

“What?” Pandora asked, glaring at the other woman.

“Nothing, you were very detailed.” Rosita has stopped laughing now, but was still watching her. “I’m happy for you.”

The words were odd to Pandora, maybe it was because she really had no name for this new  relationship if they could even call it that. It was something new though, and soon they would need to talk about this new thing, but not right now.

“Thanks, I guess. I don’t really know what the fuck I’m doing.”

Rosita was laughing again, “Neither does anyone else.”

The truck under her lurched forwards, gears scraping and grinding. Pandora screwed her eyes shut, trying to picture something calmer. Under her, the truck stopped and she could right herself again.

With a grunt, she hoisted her frame over the end of the truck. In seconds, she is on the ground knees bending to take the shock of her landing.

The road ahead of them is blocked by a thick tree laying across the road. From under the tree, the groan of the dead reached her. Daryl and Rosita get out as well, Denise doesn’t. Pandora isn’t going to allow herself to be side lined, not when she had fought so hard to get here. When she draws her gun out, Daryl moves immediately, like his ears are trained to her movements.

“Stay here, watch our backs and watch the Doc.” He says before glancing around and stepping over the tree, disappearing into the bush.

Pandora stands right where he left her, fingers in a white-hot grip around the handle of the gun. Every sound seems sharper to her now, she tilts her head to the side, trying to follow the sounds of Daryl moving.

It wasn’t long before he came back to her side, fingers brushing her elbow lightly.

“It’s clear.” He says, voice low. “Yah alright?”

Pandora nods slowly, lowering her gun and relaxing the grip a fraction.  
They all begin moving and she falls in line behind Denise, her gaze flicking between her and Daryl.

“What did you find?” Denise was asking Rosita, who Pandora now noticed was holding a small plastic bag.

“Bottles of booze. Any takers?” Rosita answered. 

The events of the other night played in her head, the feather light feeling she had after her shot.

“Me!” She pipes up from the back, holding out her hand for one.

“No thanks.” Denise answers, shoving the knife in her belt.

Rosita only laughs, “For later. I’m not bringing these to the pantry.”  
Pandora closed her hand, lowering it back to her side before slipping up next to Daryl again.

“I’m good.” Denise says pulling her map from her bag. “They were kind of my parents thing. Which is why they aren’t mine.”

Pandora lets her gaze slid over to the doctor when they all stop. In all of this time she didn’t know anything about the other woman, not from her life before. Pandora had sat with her many times pouring out her life and her struggles, but she didn’t even really know the person she was talking to. Daryl laces his fingers with her own, that movement tugs her back to the present moment. 

“That truck ain’t gonna make it past this tree. Com’on, let’s walk.”

He doesn’t even give them time to answer him, he is already walking and tugging her along with him. She doesn’t object, he would keep her safe so with him is where she should be anyway.

“Hold up,” Denise called out. Daryl stops in his tracks, turning to glare back thus causing him to turn her as well. “Looks like a straight shot if we follow the tracks.”

Pandora walks forward with him not dropping his hand, but she turns a bit to stare down the tracks. The path looks clear, sunlight streaking through the branches. It’s less used this way, she can tell. The tree would provide nice cover and allow for them to hear anyone approaching them. 

“No,” Pandora holds back the urge to roll her eyes she knows that tone. “No tracks. We’ll take the road.”

“That’s twice as far!” Rosita shouts to their backs.

She is talking to their backs now because Daryl has already turned to the road with Pandora at his side. “You go whichever way you like! Ah ain’t taking no tracks.”

Somewhere in her head she remembers a story about a place along the train tracks, a place they thought would be safe. She understands his refusal, Rosita should too since she was there if her memory is right. Pandora doesn’t hear whatever is said between Rosita and Denise, only sees the Doctor coming up behind them.

“Took long enough.” Denise mutters. When Pandora looks up, she realizes the Doctor is staring at her and Daryl’s entwined fingers.

Heat rises up her neck, colouring her cheeks slightly. She makes sure not to meet the doctor’s eyes. This conversation was one she was not ready to have yet. The rest of the walk is spent in silence. Denise tries to make conversation a few times, but Daryl always shuts it down, intent on spending the trip not speaking. Pandora can't be mad, she knows where the anxiety, now rolling off him in waves, comes from. He is here with her and Denise, if anything happened he couldn’t keep them all safe.

“Everything is fine,” She whispers, fingers tugging at his. “We are all safe.”

He doesn’t answer, only grunts and picks up the pace. For the first few steps he is pulling her along, the movement too sudden for her to keep her footing. She rights herself matching his pace again. 

Around them the scenery changes, densely packed trees give way to a few homes. Those few homes before more closely packed together until they are walking through a small neighbourhood. It’s not long before Pandora spots Rosita, and then she is the one pulling Daryl along.

“Bout time.” Rosita scoffs, coming out of her spot to meet them.  
Daryl didn’t speak, but Pandora saw the glare he shot in Rosita’s direction. He didn’t stop, only pulled her along past the other women.

Only when they had gone a few steps ahead did she tug him back silently, asking him to slow down.

“Daryl, it worked out fine. Rosita was ready and waiting.”

Daryl only grunted again, she sighed, deciding not to try another attempt at conversation. It was best to leave him when he was like this, let him rage in peace.

She understood, she really did, but she had come so far now and she was more able to take care of herself. This wasn’t any different from when she had come with Daryl and Rick. This might even be easier since they had hardly seen any of the dead and hadn’t heard anything save for the one under the tree.

They all follow the road, it takes them away from the deserted area and leads them into a small city. There is the strip mall like Denise said, it had long since been abandoned. The surrounding streets are littered with bodies, some long dead, others not. For a moment Pandora is looking at the bodies and she isn’t there anymore. Instead, she is walking through a camp the wolves had just taken, the dead left scattered carelessly on the ground like these ones. There is sensation of phantom rope on her wrists, a tugging as if someone is pulling her forward.

The flashback is almost all encompassing, almost. The real world demands her attention and gets it by allowing her to stumble on the outstretched hand of a corpse. The movement jolts her back into the moment.

“Pandora?” Daryl’s voice tickles her ear. Blinking, he is right there at her side, putting firm pressure on her elbow.

“Ya?” She blinks again, gaze sweeping the area around her to remind her of where she is. “Sorry, I’m fine, I just got distracted.”

Rosita is looking at them now although trying to appear like she isn’t. Pandora can tell though, and there is a mix of strange emotions playing on her face. Anger twisted her features for a second, then it was gone. As she catches Pandora looking, Rosita turns away with a scoff.

Daryl moves towards the door, obviously satisfied by her answer. He knocks on the door, not loud enough to bring anything from far, but enough to bring any of the dead from inside to the door. Seconds tick by in silence while Pandora waits with her breath held in her lungs for the sounds of the dead, but they are all met by only the same, uneasy stillness.

“Alright me and her are gonna do this.” He gestures to Rosita, eyes flicking between Pandora and Denise. “Yah both gonna stay back, got it?”

Pandora doesn’t see what Denise says, but Pandora’s answer is clear. “No fucking way. I’m going in with you. I will be last to watch you two and Denise.”

Her chest puffs out with a bit of pride as that seemed like a great plan. Everyone would be happy, she would be close to the door if she needed to run close to the Doc, perfect. Daryl stares at her though, mouth formed into a hard line.

“Fine, I’m in front, then Daryl, then you.” Rosita rolled her eyes and doesn’t try to hide her scowl. Pandora doesn’t care though, since she got what she wanted anyway.

Pandora smiles, pulling out her knife. Daryl is busy trying to avoid her gaze as he shifts through the contents of his bag pulling out the crowbar and using it to pry the doors open.

They all stand there again, breath held while they wait. Again, nothing happens, nothing moves or comes towards them, it's empty. One door is open all the way now but Daryl is opening both doors to allow the sunlight to flood in inside. Rosita goes in first, her steps still slow and careful, always ready. Daryl throws a glance back at her for a second before entering himself.

Pandora steps in behind him, the smell hits her full in the face causing her hand to fly up. There was something dead inside here, something that had been dead for a long time. The whole place stank of it, meaning nothing had been open for a while. From behind her she hears Denise gagging. It doesn’t take long for her to get used to the smell, Pandora has been in the company of worse. She doesn’t allow herself to go there now though, forcing her brain to fast forward over the next thoughts.

“We gonna find out what you had for breakfast?” Daryl asks Denise, his tone laced with a mild annoyance. His nerves are thin, she knows this, but it’s giving him a nasty edge, something she’s hardly seen while he is in her company.

“Oatmeal, just so you know.” Denise’s answer is light hearted, a sharp contrast to the current mood.

Pandora would never admit it when asked, but she is stressed. Her anxiety feeling like a slow creeping monster up her spine. She follows closely behind Daryl who, without looking back, reaches for her hand. He must know, must be reading her mind or her energy or something. Or maybe it’s that they are more alike than they realize, he knows what she is feeling because he feels it too. Before it was nothing, a run with Daryl like always, but life outside of the walls was always unpredictable. Inside this store for some reason, the danger was beginning to seem monstrous.

As Pandora walks with him, she tries to steer her mind in a different direction. Her eyes go to the store around her, drinking in every detail. It's un-looted, all the displays and merchandise still intact resting on dust covered shelves. It’s a odd little shop with clothes, bags, herbs, candles and other random items. 

“Anything you like?” Daryl asks her as she was stopped in front of a jewelry display.

There is enough lightness in her still to smile at him, slipping up next to him and putting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, pick something.” She mutters her fingers trail over the glass. its pretty, she's never been much for jelewery really. She was always training and she couldn't wear any of that in the training gym.

He is really trying she can tell, trying to be what she needs right now: a calm influence. Watching, he snaps the lock on the case, hand reaching for a necklace in the back row. It’s a beautiful, silver chain with a tree encased in a circle. The tree’s roots run deep, and its branches reach high.

“Ah like this one.” He mutters as he unhooks the clasps to slip it around her neck.

“I love climbing trees.” She whispers, her fingers brushing the tree where it hung at her chest.

“Hey,"

Rosita’s voice carried over to them. She had her flashlight turned up to a sign that said pharmacy. Right, the thing they were actually here for: more medicine. Daryl moved from her side, crowbar in hand, ready to pry the metal of the window open. It doesn’t give on the first try, so Pandora stands back to give him some space to work.

“Do you want me to hold your bags or something?” Denise is behind them holding her light towards Daryl. No one moves to answer her, Pandora slipping away to the side to look around more.

When it finally clicks open Daryl pushes up the metal screen to reveal an almost stocked pharmacy. Pandora is jumping over the counter and inside first, she doesn’t quite make out all the conversation taking place behind her, but hears someone say to take everything. She goes with that and heads in to look for something useful. She finds what she wants right away a few bottles of different anxiety meds. They all get shoved into her bag, along with a new bottle of Xanax. 

She moved on, scanning the shelves. With a shrug, she opens her bag and clears them of everything. They can sort it out at home, better to just bring it all. As she moves to read more bottles, she notices that Daryl and Rosita have stopped moving, they are both leaning out the little window. She hears it then, a thud, thud, thud. She can't quite place where it might be coming from and no one seems bothered by it.

“it's just one.” Rosita comments offhandedly before turning back inside.

Pandora is slipping up next to Daryl now, bag full of pills jingling. He knows, like always, that she’s anxious so he puts a hand on the small of her back to turn her back to the shelves where the sound isn’t as loud.

“It sounds like it's stuck.” The words are said out loud to everyone, but she knows they were meant for her because as soon as they reached her, he was slipping back into his alise.  

Only when they were all gone did she allow her shoulders to slump a fraction. “It’s stuck.” She whispered to herself, hands tightening on the strap of the bag between her fingers. She decides to stay there, her bag feeling full enough from before. She will just wait right here where she can still hear everything. For a while, it’s the background noise of Daryl and Rosita filling their bags that is helping to calm her down.

Behind her, glass shattered sending a shock through her. Daryl was at her side before she had even fully turned her head towards the sound.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rosita snaps, face hard.

Pandora flinches, the edge in Rosita’s tone scraping her nerves even more.

“Nothing.” Denise’s voice is low, but strained. 

Pandora turns then to see the Doctor holding a glass vase, they lock eyes for a second then Denise is gone heading for the front door. 

“Pandora? Pandora?” Daryl is calling her name, shaking her shoulder lightly. “Com’on stay with me now.”

Pandora isn’t sure how much time it takes for them to finish, only knows they are done and Daryl is leading her towards the front. She pictures them heading for the door, but shuts her eyes to the movement. 

When the sunlight hits her face she turns her head towards it, seeking the warmth. Once outside, she can hear Denise. Opening her eyes, Pandora glanced over her face. Denise looks tired, trying and failing to wipe the tears on her cheeks.

“Hey,” Daryl breaks the silence and the rumble in her chest wakes her a bit more. “Yah did good finding this place.”

Denise doesn’t answer, she can't as her face is splitting into pure agony. Pandora’s heart breaks for her, she knows what it's like to see what the world outside has become. Inside the walls it was easy to forget what had happened to the world. Pandora had been out here since the beginning, going from one place to another before she was taken. The world was ugly but she had come to accept it. 

“Tried to tell you, you weren’t ready.” Rosita’s face is hard, but she is trying to soften the edges. “We both did.”

“I know,” Her voice is tiny, so tiny that Pandora has to strain to hear it. “I know.”

Pandora steps away from Daryl to lower herself down onto the ground beside Denise. It should frighten her really, watching the woman who held her together falling apart. But this was something she could understand, this fear of the new world. She lived with it every day, no matter how strong she became there was still always the taste of fear in her mouth.

They sat beside each other for a few silent moments before Denise patted her arm gently as she stood. Daryl moved in front of her, hand held out to help her up. She took it, holding it tightly in her own, deciding then that she wasn’t going to let him go until they got home.

They started walking back towards where they had all met where the tracks crossed over the road. They walked until the surrounding buildings thinned out slowly; the landscape around them changing ever so slightly. Pandora watched silently like always, marking each house and body on the map in her head. It's so quiet again that the storm in her head is quiet too. Pandora walked at Daryl’s side, one hand held a gun, the other held her smaller one tightly.

“So was he older or younger?” Beside her Daryl had slowed their pace to walk next to Denise.

“Older.” Denise answered, her lips pulled up into a small smile. “By six minutes. My parents came up with the Dennis/Denise thing on one of their benders. Hilarious right?”

When neither of them answered she went on, “Nothing scared him, he was brave. He was angry too though, kind of a dangerous combination.”

His hand shifts around Pandora’s holding tighter for only a second before relaxing. “Sounds like we had the same brother.” He tried to make his tone light but failed.

They came to the point where the tracks met the road. In front, Rosita and Denise kept walking on the road. It was Daryl who moved away, tugging her along with him towards the tracks.

“Hey.” Rosita called somewhere behind them.

“This way’s faster right?” He asked, pointing with his free hand down the path of the train tracks. He doesn’t wait for anyone to answer him, instead he leans down just to her. “Ahm taking you home ok?”

Sighing, she nods slowly, “I’m fine, really. I promise.”

It's not a lie really, she is right here with them now, feeling only her every day anxiety and nothing more. Being out of the store helped, nothing like the feeling of being trapped to cause her anxiety to flare. Out here in the open it was different.

An opening in the trees leads them to a path littered with cars on one side. The area had been deserted for some time, it had the look of an camp set up in the beginning. A tent was pitched towards the tree line, flap flying open. 

“There's a cooler in there! Might have something we could use inside.” 

Denise is somewhere behind them, but when Pandora tries to look, Daryl tugs her forward. 

“No we got what we came for.” Rosita is ahead of them though, Pandora doesn’t really understand when that happened.

“Nah,” His voice is a low rumble through her chest when she is pressed this close to him. “Ain’t worth the trouble, come on.”

They keep walking along the tracks, confident that Denise will just follow. It’s not until they hear Denise scream that they stop, heads whipping back towards the sound. In a flash Daryl is running and she’s left standing on the tracks alone. When they don’t come back for a moment she wanders over to them, only to find Denise bent over throwing up. 

“Ah man, I threw up on my glasses.” Denise mutters picking them up off the floor, she shoves them in her pocket before turning to inspect the cooler. 

Daryl has noticed Pandora is there now so he puts his arm around her, holding her tight against him. She watches the Doctor pull out a six pack of pop, five black and one orange. Pandora isn't sure what happened here, but when she sees the car door open and a walker dead on the floor she can only assume Denise killed it. Part of Pandora is proud of her, despite the vomiting Denise had done well.  

Denise pulls the orange one and stares at it. “Hot damn.” Denise is grinning at the orange can.

“What the hell was that?” Daryl barks at her, biting off the end of each word. “You could have died right there, you know that?”

“Ya I do.” 

“Are you hearing me?” He thunders, she stiffens against the harshness of it.

“Who gives a shit!” Denise roars. “You could have died killing those Saviours, both of you, but you didn’t. Pandora could have died leading the herd away and she didn’t. You wanna live, you take chances. That’s how it works. That’s what I did.”

“For a couple of damn soda’s?” Daryl sneers.

“Nope, just this one.” Denise holds the orange can as she passes them, Rosita shakes her head but follows.

“Are you seriously that stupid?” Rosita asks when she finally catches up. Daryl and Pandora right behind her.

“Are you?” Denise stops now looking towards them. “I mean it are you? Do you have any clue what this was to me? What this whole thing is to me? I have training in this shit. I’m not making it up as I go along like with the stitches or the surgery and the other stuff.” She whips her head towards Daryl, full heat of her rage on him. “I asked you to come with me because you're brave like my brother and sometimes you actually make me feel safe.” Denise turns to Rosita now, but her face has already softened. “And I wanted you here because you’re alone. Probably for the first time in your life. You're stronger than you think you are, which gives me hope that maybe I can be too.” She’s watching Pandora now who answers with a small smile. “I could’ve gone with Tara, I could’ve told her I loved her, but I didn’t because I was afraid. That’s what’s stupid. Not coming out here, not facing my shit. And it makes me sick to see that you guys aren't even trying because you’re strong and you’re smart and you're both really good people, but if you don’t wake up…”

When the bolt pierces her eye, Denise falters for a second. Pandora feels the impact as if she’s been hit, all the air escapes her lungs in a gasp. Something inside her shatters feeling like glass breaking into a million pieces. The arrow drove right through her eye, red tip dripping blood onto the front of Denise’s shirt. 

“And face your…” Denise doesn’t finish, only wavers on her feet before finally dropping to the ground. Pandora screams, a deep sound from the hollow of her stomach, all burning rage and pain. 

Pandora thinks that broken look on Daryl’s face will haunt her forever as she watches him struggle to catch Denise.  It only takes the sound of one twig snapping to bring Daryl and Rosita back though right away. Daryl and Rosita cock their guns and take a moment to aim while figures stream from the trees, Pandora doesn’t take a moment. She is flying into motion, small sleek handled blade held tightly in her right hand.

She’s quick and small, it helps her get behind one of the men before jumping on his back. The man that she lands on grunts and tries to pull her off, but she’s too fast, slashing a thick red line across his neck. Blood pours from the wound, washing her arms in the warm liquid. She hit an artery so he will be dead in seconds. She takes two more breaths before the man stops moving, dropping his full weight on the floor under her.

When the bolt fired this time, it doesn’t feel the same, there is no pain. It pierces her right shoulder like a hot knife going through butter, but she doesn’t feel anything except warmth. Somewhere behind her, Daryl makes a strangled sound as Pandora tumbles to the floor. Her knees collide with one of the metal tracks and the impact makes the arrow in her shoulder shake, causing a hiss of pain.

“You drop’em now.”The man from the burnt forest shouts at them, his words knocking around in her brain. 

Pain clouded her head, but she tries to remember his name. The cold metal knife is still held tightly in her left hand, muscles tightening around it. 

Dwight, it was Dwight. Struggling to stay on her knees, she lifts her head enough to make out Dwight shoving Eugene to the floor with one hand and the other hand holding the crossbow. The crossbow that’s bolt was making a home in her right shoulder. Her pain-wracked brain tries to understand what Eugene is even doing there. 

“Well, hell.” He breathed from in front of her. “I was better with the second shot.” Dwight laughed, taking in Pandora’s crumpled form. The world dips and sways around her, bile forcing its way up her throat. 

Daryl makes another sound somewhere between a snarl and a curse. Pandora tries to turn to look at him, even just for a second, she doesn’t make it though. The movement is too much and her body gives up, hitting the ground hard on her left side. Dwight leers at her before snapping his face back up to her friends. 

“You got something to say to me?” She knows he is talking to Daryl now, pictures Dwight’s disfigured face sneering at him. “You gonna clear the air? Step up on the high horse? No, you don’t talk much.”

The men’s boots cross through her field of vision. She hears them behind her, taking the weapons like they asked them to the last time. She tries to turn again, but her body refuses to take orders. The pain is bright and hot, spreading like a wildfire. She feels the tears then, a pain, choked sob coming free. 

Dwight grins at Rosita, leaning on the cross bow lightly. “Still getting the hang of her. Gets better every time though.” As he finishes, his toe finds the bolt inside her and kicks. The sound she makes is more animal than human, black spots crowd her vision as she tries to blink them away. “Kicks like a bitch but…”

“Ah should’ve done it.” Daryl’s voice is so low, she almost doesn’t catch what he says. 

“Oh, what’s that? Seriously, I didn’t catch what you said.”

“Ah should have killed yah.” Daryl replied. 

Daryl’s voice is like a lifeline for the moment, keeping her grounded. It helps her fight the darkness, helps her battle against the white-hot pain in her shoulder.

“Yeah, you probably should have.” Dwight leans down now, fingers pulling the stray locks from her eyes. Her vision is clearing, but the only thing she sees is Dwight.   
“So here we are. Kind of begs the question, right? Who brought this on who? I mean, I get that you’ll just have to take my word for it, but she wasn’t even the one I was aiming for. Like I said, kicks like a bitch.”

He stands again then, hand grasping the back of Eugene’s shirt. “It's nothing personal. Look, this isn’t how we like to start new business arrangements, but you pricks kind of set the tone didn’t you?”

A chill creeps into her bones now, starting at her toes and making its way to her chest.

“What do you want?” Rosita? Maybe? She is having a hard time understanding what she is hearing.

“I’m sorry Darlin’, I didn’t catch your name. I’m D or Dwight, what’s your name?”

There is a weight on her shoulder, a hand maybe. At least she thinks it’s a hand. 

“Pan it’s me, yah hold still ok?”

Daryl had snuck up behind her, he had to be behind her because she couldn’t see him. Only feel his hand on her shoulder giving her a reassuring squeeze. 

“Rosita. What do you want?”

“Well Rosita, it’s not what I want, it’s what you are going to do. You're going to let us into your little complex. It looks like it's just beautiful in here. Then you're going to let us take whatever and whoever we want…” His foot jerks out again, hitting the arrow causing her to scream and black out.

The beauty of the darkness doesn’t last long, it spit her out back into the day. Everything hurts, even the hairs on her head. The pain makes it hard to think, hard to even see. There’s a pounding coming from her shoulder, it expands through her body. She’s missed something important, that’s for sure. Conversation had kept going after she had blacked out.

“You wanna kill someone you start with our companion hiding over there behind the oil barrels. He’s a first-class a-hole, and he deserves it so much more than us.”

Eugene sounds scared, Pandora wished she could turn to see him. There is an order barked out, then nothing. Gunfire erupts around her and she is coherent enough to move. Trying to pull her frame up from the tracks, every movement makes her body scream in agony. Dwight is far from her, she sees him while trying to crawl back towards Daryl. Now that she hears him something snaps and a new sense of purpose fills her. Lifting herself on her good arm, she grabs for her knife to drag herself towards him. It’s a slow going on her knees, but she refuses to stop. He sees her coming though and once she is close enough, he grabs for her. His hand tightens around the bolt and he jerks it hard, sending her stumbling towards him. Screaming, she tries to push him away, but he has a hold on her. Panting with tears streaking her face she panics. Grinning, he gives the bolt another tug. Black swims in her vision again and she’s sobbing, begging despite herself.

The gunfire is closer now, she feels the displaced air just above her head. Somewhere she can hear Daryl screaming her name through the pain, she is almost sure he is telling her to get down. Dwight let’s go of the arrow, shoving her away as he rolls off the side of the tracks.

Even with the orchestra of gunfire around her there is a sense of calm. She knew that soon she would be gone soon, there wouldn’t be anything. No more pain, panic, fear, just nothing. If she could see Daryl though, that would be nice. The sounds around her die down as if she is swimming under water. It would be so easy to just lie down and wait for death. That’s the scary part, how easy it is to die.

She isn’t sure what happened, but she hears Rosita yelling, “Daryl stop! Help me!”

“Shit, Pandora fuck, fuck.” Daryl is more emotional than she has ever heard him.

‘It's because I’m dying.’ She thinks to herself and it must be true because she is sure he’s crying.

“It's gonna hurt ok? I’m sorry.” She hears Daryl say.

Then her vision is filled with nothing but white, it's like another bolt going right through her. The pain is blinding so she blacks out again, just for a moment.  Although when she comes back, she knows he has taken it out. She knows because they are moving, Daryl carrying her with nothing sticking out of her.

“Stay with me Pan,” Daryl leans his face down to hers, brushing his lips softly on her forehead. “Please Pandora.”

It’s the way he says her name that changes everything really, makes her begin to thrash and kick again to fight the growing darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I am a cruel and heartless person for what I did. I could have changed the story I know that! But this is really important to Pandora's story,. Beside no one is safe how fun would that be, none is the correct answer.


	31. The Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am still writing this fic, and I have up to chapter 37 written. I am looking for a beta reader at the moment, so if you know anyone or you are interested msg me!! Anyway here we go with a new chapter, I loved this one and they are only getting better.

Chapter 31

The Hole

Her dreams are different from before. That makes her think that she isn’t dreaming after all and she’s dead. She dreams about the wolves chasing her through the forest. The trees are dense around her, so tall and thick, that she can’t tell if it’s day or night. She dreams about Denise, the arrow sticking out of her eye, asking Pandora what number she’s on. When she tries to answer her, Denise is gone, and she is alone again.

Until she hears their footsteps in the trees. She runs, but it’s slow. The ground is uneven, twigs and roots catch her feet, making her stumble. The forest itself seems intent on making her its prey. She swears she can hear them behind her. They laugh and call out to her through the trees. Suddenly, it’s not them anymore. Now, it’s Daryl chasing her. He sounds so scared, screaming her name and crashing through the brush.

“Daryl!” 

She screams for him now, spinning in one spot to try and find the direction of his voice. Something catches on a tree as she runs, she isn’t sure what stops her, but she only pulls harder against it. But when she can’t get free, she looks down at herself. The arrow in her shoulder is caught on a branch. She doesn’t remember how it got there, or when it got there. Hands shaking, she tries to pull herself loose. She’s numb, but blood gushes from the wound. It’s pooling on the floor under her, soaking into the earth. 

_ “You taught me the courage of stars before you left, how light carries on endlessly, even after.” _

“Pandora, yah gotta wake up.” 

It’s Daryl’s voice. It’s coming from somewhere else, from wherever the music is floating in from.

‘I’m dreaming,’ Pandora realizes now. Oh, course she’s dreaming. The blood still pours from her chest in a red river, but there is still no pain. She needs to wake up because she hears Daryl and she needs to wake up for him. In the woods, his voice is gone, he’s not screaming for her anymore. But somewhere else, she hears him in bits of conversation too far off for her to understand.

So, she fights again, just like before, tries whatever she can to wake herself up. Pinches herself, pulls at the arrow. Nothing. The footsteps are closer now, and when she listens like Daryl taught her to, she can hear the different sets of footsteps, five or six. She can’t make them out clearly though, can’t tell which direction they are coming from.

“Daryl!” she screams again, pulling the arrow loose from the tree, finally. She’s trying to run, but stops when blood-soaked vines curl up her legs, their thorns leaving bright red welts on her skin. 

“Fuck!” She tries to claw them off, but they twist around her ankles painfully.

The music keeps playing overhead. Cursing and screaming again, she stops trying to pull at them, instead lets them drag her down to her knees. A twig snaps to her left. The voices float towards her, laughing and howling as they come through the trees. The sound of them chills her to the point where she is frozen in place. Somewhere overhead, she can still hear Daryl’s voice, but she is so tired. There is no more fight right now, she’s tired, so tired of it. Running, all she ever does is run. So, she stays there and waits for them to come.

_ “ _ _ Our mistakes, they were bound to be made. But I promise you, I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you safe.” _

It’s the music that finds her again, but this time, the sound is clear and crisp. She opens her eyes and is met with a dim outlet of a room. The sound Pandora makes is somewhere between a sigh and a sob. Once the first sob comes, they don’t stop. Curling to her side, she cries. She’s awake, and everything hurts. She couldn’t be happier for the pain, it means that she’s alive. That only makes her cry harder. She was ready to lay down in her dreams, and now she’s in pain and it’s so sweet.

“Pandora! You're safe, it’s OK.”

It’s a woman’s voice, she’s sure, but she can’t quite focus enough to make out who it belongs to. The tears still came, pinpointed by the pain in her shoulder, and the pain in her chest. Because if she was here, awake and alive, that means that Denise isn’t. It means that it wasn’t all part of her nightmares. That part had been real, too real.

Somehow, a sound reaches her. The rustling of clothes, a door opening, shouting, then a door closing again. She can’t make out the words, not over the sound of her own sobbing.

“Pandora, you gotta lay back, OK?”

It’s Rosita, she realizes then. The women is in front of her, putting her hands on her shoulders, trying to push her onto her back. But Pandora can’t uncurl herself, not with the gaping hole in her chest. She’s sure if she pulls herself tight enough she can fill it with her own body. If she lays back, she’s too empty, too exposed.

“Pandora, you're bleeding!”

‘Oh.’ 

She is. There’s a warmth spreading over her chest now, a slower drip than when it had been a dream. The door behind her opens again. It’s left open and the light from the hallway illuminates Daryl’s form as he moves towards her. He comes to her side head dipping towards her own. 

The door remains open, light spilling into the room. It’s a mess, every surface covered in clothes, books papers. It’s the room she had called home for months, still set up to house two people. Two beds, two chairs by the bay window. It’s darker now though, curtains pulled tight against the outside world, making the space small and stuffy. 

“Pan, listen. Ahm right here, lemme help.”

The sound of Daryl’s voice triggers the picture of his face as he desperately tried to catch Denise as she fell. She remembers again, remembers where the first arrow had found its home. In her mind, she can see the doctor’s lifeless body dropping to the floor. The picture of Daryl’s broken face plays behind her now closed lids.  Another sob causes a lightning bolt of pain in her shoulder. Gasping, she falls forward in Daryl’s waiting arms.

“Hold her still.” Rosita is pulling her shirt up, shoving her arm out of her sleeve. “She tore a fucking stitch.”

Pandora doesn’t quite understand what Rosita means by that and she tries for a second to work it out in her head. Stitch, Rosita said, stitch. But it hurts, everything hurts so fucking much it’s hard for her to even think.

“Ahm sorry, it's gonna hurt, Pandora. Ahm so sorry,” Daryl keeps saying, lips pressed right against her ear. Her attention tunnels to him, focusing only on the sound of his voice, the feeling of his breath tickling her ear.

At the first prick of pain, Pandora gasps, understanding now what Rosita had meant. She was closing her wound again, right there with Pandora awake. The pain freezes the sounds in her mouth, causing her frame to stiffen against Daryl’s hold. She feels the needle breaking the skin, the string pulling the edges back together. Pandora tries to move away from the pain, but Daryl holds her still, his hands locked on her shoulders.

When it’s over, she sits slumped into Daryl’s chest, cheeks soaked with tears, her breathing shallow and labored. Rosita had closed the wound again and changed the dressings. Pandora can’t  quite be sure how long the whole thing took, but when she finally opens her eyes again, Rosita is leaning over into her field of vision.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Rosita says, her voice softer now. Her gaze lingers on them a second longer before she leaves, shutting the door.

“Daryl,” Pandora whispers, raising her left hand to grip his vest. “Did you, did you go.” 

She struggles to find the words and when they don’t come to her, tears fill the space. She needs to know where the body is, if they left Denise or brought her back. But her tongue is too thick on her mouth, grief choking off her thoughts and words.

“Ah went back.” He knows what she is asking and when she hears it, some of the tension is gone. She knows somewhere in her head that he would never leave Denise’s body there, but she needed to hear it, she needed to be sure.  “Ya scared me.” He is leaning into her now, lips brushing her temple softly.

“I was dying, or I was ready to,” she whispers,  turning her head a fraction to catch his lips. “Then I heard you and I had to come back.”

“Thank yah,.” he whispers. Daryl holds her still against him. He leans in, lips pressed to her forehead. Before she knows it, he is easing her back down on the bed, making sure she is laying on the left side. Then he lays down next to her, holding her as tightly as he dared.

“Sleep now.”

_ “Can we skip past near-death clichés? Where my heart restarts, as my life replays?” _

When she hears the next line, she realizes he brought that in here for her. The CD player and the CDs she had brought home that day. She wants to ask him how long she had been sleeping for, but the darkness is creeping into her vision again. It doesn’t take long until she gives into it, letting it pull her under.

The second time she wakes, her head feels clear and the pain isn’t so sharp. Daryl is still in the bed with her when she opens her eyes, it helps her to remember. Remember that she isn’t dead, that she’s here, back home safe. She isn’t sure how she could have ever thought she was dead when she was in this much pain.

Her throat aches, too dry and rough from not enough usage, or maybe too much screaming in her sleep, she can’t be sure. Pulling herself up, she winces, the actions sending a light bolt of pain through her. Her shoulder is tight, the muscles hard under the skin. When she moves just so, she swears she can feel the tug of the stitches holding her together. Pandora rolls her shoulders, feeling the tug again. It’s a reassuring feeling, as if the stitches are holding everything together.

“Hey, take it easy.” Daryl’s glancing down at her hand trailing to the hair at the back of her neck. He’s sitting up now, his other hand curling around her elbow to keep her steady.

“Water?” she whispers, hands trailing her throat. A fire burns in the wake of the words.

“Here, first lean back.” 

Daryl is moving behind her, doing what she isn’t sure until she leans back like he asks. She meets with a wall of soft pillows. They hold her up gently, hardly putting any pressure on her wound. A small sigh of happiness escapes her, just holding herself up for few moments was a strain.

When she settles, he hands her a glass already full of water. As she’s drinking, she takes the time to look around. The room is still a mess, Daryl’s clothes lying in random places. The second bed had been pushed next to the one she is in, but it doesn't look slept in. It’s neatly made still, edges tucked in tight. It is covered in supplies though, medical tape, bandages, towels, and pill bottles. The CD player sits on the dresser, every CD she had brought was open, scattered on the surface. 

When she finishes, she doesn’t let go of the glass, only grips it tighter to steady her hands. Daryl takes it from her though, tugging it gently from her hands and placing it on the night stand beside her bed. Tilting her head to the side, she watches him find the only clear spot.

“Eat.” He pushes a plate of food towards her.

Apples, crackers, and a trail mix. She holds out her hand for him while trying to figure out where the plate had come from.  Staring for a few long seconds, her stomach did an uneasy flip inside her, already protesting the idea of eating. Silently, she pushes it away, shaking her head in a way of answer. Daryl sighed and puts it back, not arguing with her.

His hands find her own, encasing them in his grip. She looks at him, realizing now that she had been staring off at some blank spot behind him. It’s like before where she can’t quite get a handle on her brain. She tries to think about what Denise would tell her to do, but the thought makes her heart tighten painfully and she lets it go. Daryl tugs her hands again, pulling her back to the present moment.

“Ah thought Ah was gonna lose yah.” His voice pitches low, edges raw.

He looks tired, the type of tired that goes bone deep. With her left hand, she reaches for him, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. He does as she asks, like always, slipping beside her. He doesn’t put his arm around her though, just leans against her gently. They sit like this, side by side, against her throne of pillows for a few silent moments.

“Scared the shit out me,” he whispered, tangling his fingers with hers.

“How long?” she asks, finally finding her voice.

Daryl leans down towards her, planting a gentle kiss on her temple. “Yah been out three days, Pan.” Lifting his hand, he reached over and touched her cheek. “Yah had an infection, couldn’t get yah to wake up for anything.”

“I didn’t know I was dreaming,” she whispered, tightening her grip on his hand. “I thought I was dead, until I heard you and the music. I was so tired of running, so I waited for them to find me, then it would have been over.” She doesn’t tell him how badly she wanted it to be over for a second. How, after dreaming of Denise dying over and over again, she was ready for it to be over for herself too.

Daryl goes stiff beside her for only a few seconds, then he slides his arm behind her, staying low on her back to avoid her shoulder. He’s careful though, always so careful, but she misses the deep pressure he usually gave her.

“Ahm sorry.”

“No,” Pandora breathed the word, shaking her head. She can’t let him carry that, can’t let him hold all the guilt of what happened. “You kept me safe, like you said. You brought me home.”

“Ah didn’t bring everyone home.”

“I know, Daryl.” Her head finds his shoulder. The movement tugs at the stitches again, but now she welcomes the pain. She’s crying again, tears leaving tracks down her cheeks, dropping on her shirt. “I know.”

There is a hollow place in her chest now and she lets Denise’s name live there. Let's her name fill the hole she keeps for the loved ones she lost. She keeps Lily there too. She tucks away her sister’s sweet smile in the darkness. Her parents are there too, their loving gazes tucked away where she can’t see them, either. Others are there too, Riley, Tabitha all those she lost along the way. No matter how many people she tucks in there, the hole grows to fit them.

Pandora begins to cry harder now, shutting her eyes against the tears, only to see the moment of Denise’s death playing over and over behind her closed lids. The hole in her chest is gaping wide again. She tries to curl herself into it, but the pain her shoulder causes when she tries to pull her knees to her chest makes her gasp for air.

Daryl is talking to her, but she can’t hear it, or doesn’t want to, she isn’t sure. His hands are on her shoulders though, trying to keep her upright. Her body fights against his hold though, slumping forward towards her half-drawn knees.

“Pan, gotta sit up, OK?” His voice is on the edge of tears.

He won’t let them fall, not now, and she has done enough crying for the both of them.

“Take me to--” She chokes through her tears, a sob making her hunch again. The pain is a bright bolt on her head, focusing her. “Take me to her grave, please.” Her voice has a begging quality to it, she hates herself for her inability to stop it.

“Pandora.”

Her head snaps towards him, watching his face swim in her tear-filled vision. He’s trying not to look at her, but she won’t allow it. Her fingers reach for his chin, pulling his eyes up to hers. His eyes reflect the storm inside. He is swimming in rage, guilt and pain. It makes her choke out another sob, but she kisses him, lips ghosting over his.

“Please,” she whispers against his lips. “I need to see it.”

“Eat first.” Leaning away from her, his tone doesn’t leave room for her to counter back. He is already handing her a plate, anyway. Taking the apple, she watches him cut it with the knife at his belt.

Wiping her eyes, she reaches for the first slice. The moment she eats it, her body remembers what it’s like to be hungry. She finishes the rest of the plate and the apple slices Daryl cuts for her. He sighs when she hands the empty plate back to him.

“C’mon then, take this.” Daryl places one pill in her hand, the other hand holding a glass of water. She takes it and almost swallows it dry, but Daryl, the forever rational one, pushes  the water into her hands. Two sips and the pill is down.

Standing, he holds his hands out for her take. “Then yah gotta rest.”

Not answering, she takes his hand, her grip on the right hand is weaker, but he doesn’t miss a beat, lifting her by the elbows. The room pitches and dips in her vision. If she was alone, she would have been on the floor already. But he’s there, like always, her anchor.

‘I should be stronger for him.’ The thought comes to her as they leave the house and head for the graveyard, the idea that she needs to be better for him. Daryl is always what she needs, maybe she should try and be what he needs for a change. 

‘I’m going to say goodbye, then go home.’ She thinks that’s it, she just needs to see it, then she can rest like he says. Then tomorrow, everything will be different.

Whatever vision she had of how this would go, vanishes the moment she sees the fresh grave. It stands out stark against the other graves, they are dry, the rich brown of Denise’s grave. Pandora let’s her eyes scan over the neat lines of graves, she tries to count them but her head aches too much. Instead she turns to Denises grave again, tears swimming in her eyes. There is a cross marking it. She assumes her name had been carved into it, but from where they are standing, it is hard to see.

Daryl had been holding her hand, his other arm around her waist to steady her. Daryl moves her between the rows of graves, until the stop in front of the newest. Standing before the grave, whatever composure she had left, vanishes the moment she reads Denise’s name. Sinking to her knees she sobs, the cries pulling their way free from her chest.

Somewhere behind her, she hears the crunching of leaves under boots. The sound moves away from her, followed by low voices. The pain in her chest is worse than the pain in her shoulder now. Denise had been so good, too good for this shit hole of a world.

The guilt was almost enough to crush her. She had insisted that Denise go, encouraged her, even. Knowing what was out there, Pandora knew it wasn’t safe, it was never safe. Pandora knew that more than anyone. Whenever she stepped outside of these walls, someone was hurt. Why did she think this time would be any different?

“I’m sorry,” she whispers through her tears. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She wants to get up now, wants to go back to her room and think. Think about what’s next. There is a next, there has to be. She’ll find them. No, not them, no. Just Dwight. Killing Dwight is what’s next for her, what is last for her, she realizes. It would be the last thing she ever did. She wants to sit and plan these things, but the tears pour out of her still.

She’s not just crying for Denise anymore, she crying for everyone she’s lost. Her family and the groups along the way. She cries for those who aren’t dead yet because she knows that they will be dead, maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but before their time, they will be gone.

How long it takes for the tears to stop, she isn’t sure, but when they do, she’s empty. There is a shifting beside her, a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. She knows it’s Daryl, even if she can’t see him through her eyes that are red and raw from tears.

“She saved me too,” Pandora mumbles, voice thick. Denise had saved her just as much as Daryl had saved her. “I’m always left behind, I always survive. That’s my curse.”

Daryl is silent for a moment before he answers. “Ain’t no curse, you’re tough as shit.”

“I’m not.” She leans forward, sinking her fingers in the earth that is now housing her friend’s body. “Not without you, not without Denise.”

“That’s bullshit and yah know it.” He’s angry now, she can hear it in his voice. “Ya were strong before us.” Daryl is standing behind her now, his hand on her shoulder.

A laugh escapes her before she can stop it. It’s a sad sound though, causing a few more tears to run down her face. He is so wrong. She wasn’t strong, she was stupid and weak. If she had been strong, the Wolves wouldn’t have taken her and Denise wouldn’t be dead.

“She saved me, Daryl, and I couldn’t even kill him for what he did.”

Wiping at her eyes, she shakes her head, shaking his hand off in the process. She needs to shake the images from her head. She can’t bear another second of watching Denise fall to the ground. That day will be fresh fuel for her nightmares. She would get Dwight, if it was the last thing she ever does, he would pay for all of it. That would set it right again. An eye for an eye. Beside her, Daryl kneels on the ground, fingers curling around her own.

“Ah ain’t letting him live.”

“Good." 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well?? What did you think, kind of s filler chapter but still really important in the long run. Leave me a review and some love! It helps keep me going.


	32. Deadly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back and Ilm still writing I promise, its just taking longer for these chapters to come out due to the editing process.

Deadly 

“Again.” 

Pandora wipes the blood from under her nose and steadys herself. A droplet of sweat lands in her eye; it stings slightly but it’s only one injury in the catalog she seems to be feeling now. Her right shoulder aches like a bitch. She rolls it slightly, trying to hide her flinching. Her left side aches from a well-placed kick she didn’t dodge in time. The pain in her shoulder makes its way to her ear. She tries not to think about it and stretches it out instead.   

It had only been two days since she finally got out of bed. She hadn’t wasted any time in hunting Rosita down and have her start her training again. Daryl hadn’t been happy, but once Pandora had half-heartedly promised to train lightly, he had agreed to it. 

Now, standing at the solar panels in front of Rosita, she was doing the exact opposite of what she promised. She can feel a bruise darkening on her left arm, and one on her right leg, the ache in her shoulder increasing with every breath.

When Rosie doesn’t answer her, she clears the hair from her eyes and stares at the other woman. 

“Again!” she snaps, reaching forward for the knife in the grass.

Rosita scoffs. She snatches the knife before Pandora can reach it, shoving it in the waistband of her pants. She moves faster than  Pandora, her body not slowed from pain.

“That’s enough for today,” Rosita replies, two machetes in her left hand. “You’re still healing, remember? That arrow to your shoulder?”

“I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt.”  

Rosita glares at her before stepping forward and poking her lightly in the right shoulder. Pandora hisses between her teeth and steps back, hand going up to cover the area. The pain sends bright lightning bolts down into her chest.

“You’re a shitty fucking liar, Pandora. Go rest.” 

Rosita turns away now, her back to Pandora. She looks like she is leaving, but a few seconds pass and she doesn’t move. Finally, she looks over her shoulder, eyes locking with hers. 

“Training this hard won’t bring her back, you know. You’re only going to hurt yourself.” 

Tears sting in Pandora’s eyes. Angrily, she wipes them away. 

“I know that,” Pandora answers through gritted teeth. She doesn’t expand, doesn’t go on to explain what she was really doing. That she needs to make sure she’s strong enough to kill Dwight. Rosita wouldn’t understand, anyway. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She decides it’s best to leave before she says something. 

Pandora heads up to one of the new watchtowers, where she knows no guard has been posted, thinking that she can have a few minutes of silence by herself. There isn't a ladder to lead her up there so instead, she decides to test her climbing skills. Starting with her left arm, she hoists herself up the first piece of wood. Her body groans in protest but it’s nothing she can’t handle. When she reaches up with her right arm, her grip isn’t strong enough and she falls on her back. The air comes rushing out of her in a strangled gasp the second she hits the floor. The pain are little lightning bolts going from her shoulder out into the rest of her body. She closes her eyes for a second, taking a few deep breaths to try and reorient herself. 

“What the fuck yah doing, Pandora?” Daryl’s deep and angry drawl sounds from behind her and she can’t help but flinch when she opens her eyes and sees him leaning over into her field of vision, glaring down at her. 

“I was trying to get up there.” 

“Without a ladder?” 

“I don’t need a ladder.”

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” He growls, taking her arms and pulling her up to her feet. 

She groans, lifting her left hand to push him away. His eyes are bright with rage. He doesn’t let her go; instead, he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He’s warm, like always, and she can’t help but relax in the circle of his arms. 

“Where have you been?” He growls at her, lowering his voice so that passing couples don’t hear him. 

“With Rosita, training,” she whispers, trying to make her voice sound stronger than she feels. 

“For this long? Are yah fucking crazy?” His voice is getting louder now, his hand tightening painfully on her arm. “Yah got outta bed two days ago, yah almost fucking died.” 

“You don’t think I know that!” She hisses through her teeth, pulling her arm from him. 

Turning, she leaves him standing there and heads towards home. She tries to remember to breathe like Denise taught her, making every breath as deep as she can. She thinks about finding another guard tower, one with a ladder, and walking to the top of the wall. But the bottle of painkillers and the shower are calling her name, both things she can do behind the locked door of the bathroom. 

Only when she gets home, she is so distracted by the pain that she leaves the bathroom door unlocked. Pandora doesn’t even get water, just takes the little white pill dry while peeling off her clothes. 

In the mirror, she stands naked for a moment. The stitches still held her wound tightly shut, the new skin working at closing the hole in her body. The rest of her skin is littered with old scars: a bite mark on her hip and twin white lines along her stomach and inside her tights. There is a brand too, a W carved into her stomach just above her belly button. 

“Never again,” she tells her reflection, tears in her eyes. She can’t be the victim again, not like before. She will fight now that she knows how. 

The shower calls to her and she turns the water on hot enough to warm the ever-present chill in her bones. Stepping inside, she takes a moment to close her eyes under the water. Rosita’s voice finds her again behind her eyelids. 

“Training this hard won’t bring her back, you know. You’re only going to hurt yourself.” 

The tears that come mix with the water on her face. Her knees buckle under her and she sinks to the shower floor, curling into a ball. Part of her only wants this, to curl up and cry and cry until she’s empty. But another part of her rages, a caged beast in her head demanding she build her strength again and find Dwight and kill him. To make sure that no one ever puts a hand on anyone she loves again. 

She doesn’t hear the bathroom door open, or the shower door for that matter. She only feels the warm towel around her, and then she is lifted out of the shower and carried back into her room. Daryl dresses her, slipping an oversized T-shirt on her before pulling the blankets back and tucking her in bed. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as he eases himself down next to her. 

“Ah know.” Daryl is gentle, hands pulling the blankets over them and tucking her frame into his arms as she cries. 

The next few days, she takes it easy, plays nice so Daryl stops trailing her around all day. She has already decided to stop using the pain meds, wanting to save them for someone who might really need them. It hurt like hell the first day without them, and training is a bitch, but she never says a word.

Every free moment she has away from Daryl, she’s planning. There is a black hiking bag in her closet stuffed with the small supplies she slipped away without anyone seeing. Two knifes she promised to return after training, protein bars and some dried fruit she had picked up on her last run to the pantry. There was also a  map taken from Eugenie’s growing pile in Rosita’s dining room. It will be soon, it must be. It’s already been almost two weeks, who knows how long it will take her to find their trail, to following them back to wherever they call home. 

Pandora’s scared, as she should be. She’s not Daryl, or Rick, or Carol; she doesn’t have the skills they have. But it has to be her, it just has to be. Because she knows she won’t get out of there alive, she just knows it. If this is the last thing she can do for this group, it’s worth it, especially after everything they have done for her.  

‘Tomorrow,’ she decides as she slips into bed with Daryl for the night. ‘I’ll go tomorrow.’ 

“Mornin’.” Daryl’s voice wakes her. She curls into him, pressed tightly against his side. 

Everything is stiff, she is sure she hasn’t moved all night. ‘This might be the last time I wake up next to him,’ she thinks to herself as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. 

“Good morning.” Pressing a small kiss to his cheek, she puts an arm around him, tangling her leg with him. 

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Daryl remarks. He rolls to his side, untangling himself from her for a moment. Then he puts his arms around her again, kissing her lips this time. 

She melts, sighing into the kiss, her hands pressed against his chest. He’s so damn good to her, and she’s not sure what she did to get this lucky. She wonders how much he will miss her, or if it will take him long to get over her once she’s gone. But she doesn’t want to think about that now, just wants to lay here and soak in everything about him. 

“Sleep good?” he asks when she finally breaks apart. She turns her head, hiding in the hollow space of his neck. 

“Mhmm.” She hums the word into his skin, delighting in the shiver it evokes from him. 

“Ah gotta help Maggie today, she wants to hide some guns, put more bins out.” He says it like he is trying to give himself a reason to get out of bed. 

“Why?” she whines, curling tighter into his side. “It’s been so quiet ...” She leaves the rest of the sentence hanging so that he knows what she means. 

 

“Ah know, but she’s worried.” He kisses her again, one hand cupping the side of her face, gently. “Hormones and shit,” he whispers against her mouth and she smiles. It feels so normal. 

Part of her is almost sad that this might be ending. She decides then that she will make it back to him. To make sure they have more mornings like this one, as many mornings as this world is willing to give them. She wants more of this, she wants  _ all  _ of this. For the first time, there is a future that she can see, and it looks happy. It breaks her heart looking at him now, the smile that only reaches his eyes when they are alone. 

“I love you.” 

The words tumble out before she can stop them. It’s not a shock, not for her. It feels good to say it, to get it out in the open. It’s such a relief, she feels tears running down her cheeks. 

“Pandora...” He breathes her name. Stares at her so intensely, like he is trying to set her on fire with the heat of his gaze. There is a silence then, and she is sure she can see the wheels in his head spinning. 

“Ah love you too.” 

She leans in and kisses him again, desperate this time. Fire coiling in her belly, she tries to get him as close as she can. He opens his mouth and her tongue slips in, needing more, needing just to taste him. He groans into her mouth, the hand he had slipped behind her tightens on her hip. Shifting so she doesn’t break contact, she presses her hips closer to him, slipping her leg in between his. 

This is everything she wants, and when she breaks away from him, she is gasping and laughing with what little air she can get into her lungs. 

“Ah hope that isn’t because of my skills, Ah know Ahm a bit rusty.” He chuckles, leaning toward her again, lips brushing her forehead. 

“No, no, I just — ” She can’t finish the sentence, can’t put in the words the fullness in her chest right now. It feels like a dream,  coming out of something so dark to this perfect moment. 

“Ah know,” he whispers, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Ah don’t wanna go, but…” 

He lets the sentence die. Pandora only shakes her head slowly. 

“No, go, it’s OK.” 

She stays curled up in the bed, watching him get ready to leave. As he does his belt, he catches her looking at his bare chest. His face turns a bright red and she quickly stares at his feet.

“What?”

Pandora grins, shaking her head. “Nothing, come back soon.” 

Leaning down towards her, he kisses her again, before grabbing his vest and leaving. She curls up in bed and waits for a few moments until she is sure that he has left.

Only then does she leave the bed. She doesn’t shower, just pulls her hair up into a bun laying on top of her head. She knew it was risky to leave during the day when more people were awake inside and watching her. But they would also be more lax because no had ever dared to try anything during the day, at least not from the inside. 

But she would never get out at night, not with Daryl in bed with her. He always seemed to chip away at her resolve to leave. When he was close to her, that was all she wanted. It was best to leave when he was already gone. So she got ready, got her bag together, popped two pills and headed out the back. 

The part of the wall right behind their townhouse is easy to climb. It is old and more rough and dented than anywhere else. The other side of the wall is covered in a thick forest, dense trees blocking anything out. The guard tower near them is unfinished; no one posted there to keep watch. Perfect for her to slip out from there. 

She traces a path to lead her up and over the wall. 

‘I will come back,’ she promises herself, knowing that this is where she belongs. 

When she gets to the top, she looks back down at  Alexandria. No one looked up at her in return. People around her are going about their morning. She smiles before turning to look out over the other side of the wall. With a sharp breath, she tumbles off the top of the wall, tucking her knees into her chest. The landing is a bit bumpy but she rolls tightly and lands without any pain. 

The bushes around her rustle a little. She holds her breath and crouches down. Then, taking a deep breath, she bolts from her spot, running away from the wall. She tries to make sure she isn’t seen, hugging close to the shadows, moving between the houses. She pauses between them to ensure no one is looking. She thought she was doing well.

“Pandora??” 

She swears someone screams her name, but she puts her head down and weaves in and out of the trees. It doesn’t take long for all the sounds around her to fall away. Only then does she stop and take a moment to breathe, when she is sure she had gone far enough. Once she catches her breath, she finds herself grinning so wide her face hurts. 

“You did it,” she tells herself, allowing herself a moment to sit in her pride. The pills had made everything feel unreal, like throwing a blanket over her emotions. They stop her from tumbling into a panic at the idea of being outside the walls alone. 

‘It’s a good thing,’ she reminds herself. ‘They are a good thing.’ Still grinning, she turns to continue her way down.

  
  


This was the first time he had come outside since he got to Maggie’s, spending more time planning than anything else. The moment he steps outside to light a smoke he swears he hears her name in the wind. At first, he thinks it's because of this morning.  His head is full of her and he doesn't think much about it. 

At one of the guard towers near their place, there is a commotion and he hears her name again. He’s right, someone just called her name. So, smoke in his hands, he partially runs for the guard tower. 

“What did you say?” Daryl growls to the person on guard. 

“I-I-I-I thought I saw Pandora for a second, going that way — ” 

he doesn’t know the person and can’t  quite remember their name — “She stopped for a second then kept going.”

Daryl turns back, running for his bike now. When he gets it, he pulls it up to the gate, demanding someone open it for him. No one comes, so he jumps off the bike and does it himself. He doesn't stop to check the house first to see if the guard is wrong, he doesn’t need to. He knows it's true, it has the stink of Pandora all over it. Rushing out the first moment she’s alone. She was probably planning it the whole time.

The bike roars to life under him. In the second it takes for the kickstand to come up, he's tearing down the street. He knows where she's going. The same place he's been thinking about going to since they got back.

She’s going back to find Dwight.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well???? Leave me some comments I always love to hear them.


	33. Let's meet the man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am so sorry! I know I have been gone literally forever. I had some issues finding someone to edit for me. The good news is my lovely cousin is back to beta reading for me, so you can expect some regular updates from now on.   
> Second thing, is holy crap I am happy to be back! I stopped posting but I actually never stopped writing, I'm up to chapter 40 and its only getting better.   
> If you are still around I thank you! Anyway read on friends read on!

Chapter 33

Pandora was staring up at the sky, standing right where Denise died. She remembers the spot, can even still see the blood on the ground. Her shoulder ached as if to remind her to be present, a painful reminder of what happened here. She could get lost right here, slip away in the memory and that would be the end,before she had even done what she came to do. From behind her she hears stones crunching under feet. Her movement is slow, but the gun is in her hand when she turns to face Daryl. 

“Pandora.” He breathes her name and the wind carries it to her. 

“Oh.” He found her , of course he had found her. Why did she think she could slip away without his notice? She hoped she would have more time, but the universe  rarely  gave her what she wanted. 

He comes towards her, hands out and open in surrender and for a second she wonders why. Then, she glances down at the gun still in her hands pointed at him. She lowers it, slipping it back into her belt.  He’s furious, she can see it. His eyes are dark, peering at her from under his sweat soaked hair.  

“What are ya doin’ out here?” 

“You know what I’m doing Daryl.” 

The pills made everything seem slow, muted somehow.  Her chest just feels like a void, like all her emotions have  been sucked away into some black hole. Everything she feels gets sucked away into the emptiness. 

“Ah can’t let you go.” 

“I have to” 

He reaches for her, but she side steps him so his fingers only graze her arm. Shutting her eyes she tries to picture which way Dwight had run. She had seen him run, somewhere past the pain she felt she must remember. Turning, she opens her eyes again to glance behind her to where they had run. Behind her through the trees, she would find the trail. 

“Yah gotta be kidding me this is fucken stupid. Yah know  that  right?” 

He’s shouting now, hands balled into fist at his sides. Her eyes wander over to him, drinking in the sight, even when angry he is something. She wonders what he is madder about:  the fact that  she is out here alone, or she is out here first. 

“Are you mad I came out here first?” She can’t help but ask,her curiosity clawing at her for an answer. 

“Fuck!” That’s the only answer she gets from him. He spins around, walks back to the tree line and stays there for a few moments before coming back to her. 

“Yah ain’t gonna let me take you back first?” 

Pandora only shakes her head, stepping into him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t soften the hard edges of his body, only stares at her. 

“So, come with me.” She whispers, her hand presses against his chest, heading titling up to close the gap between them. The kiss  is sweet a light feather touch on his lips ,  it makes him relax. “Or go home Daryl.” 

“Don’t move.” Daryl whispers into her ear. 

She moves a fraction turning only her head to the side, just to watch him go. He takes the bike, laying it down on the ground and covering it with fallen branches. Watching him made her think of the burnt forest, of leaving the bike and being taken captive. She waits for the panic, but it never comes. Instead, there  is only calm .

She can’t lie that having him here puts her at ease. It calms the deep nerves the drugs only smothered. When he comes back, he presses the ghost of a kiss on her lips before turning taking her hand in his. He doesn’t seem angry anymore, she’s glad of it. He would never stay angry with her for long, it wasnt in him. 

They walk in silence until the forest turns to open fields. Daryl lets her slip ahead of him, whispering for her to track. Pandora stops for second thinking before she does as she is told. leaning down to get the direction Dwight had his men had fled. Footprints stood out in the grass in front of her, the fear making Dwight’s men forget to cover their tracks.  Her tracking skills are not bad,  she is able to lead them all the way across the clearing until the landscape changes and becomes thick forest.

At the tree line she gets stuck as everything looks the same. The ground  is littered in prints, some going back and others forward. Small twigs cover the ground broken from being under footsteps, but she can’t make sense of what direction any footprints went in. A bright blaze of frustration flares, only to be choked out by the drugs. 

“Fuck!” She whispers the curse, fingers parting the long grass. 

“Lemme see.” He hovers over her, trying to peer over her shoulder. As she moves, he takes her place. Pandora stand looming over him slightly, her eyes track the movement of his fingers as he looks. It takes Daryl seconds to find the right path, as if neon arrows pointed him in the right direction. 

“This way. Com’on.”  Standing he is reaching for her, taking her hand locking their fingers. Daryl is always so damn warm, Pandora grips his hand using it to chase away the chill she feels. 

The woods around them are dense, tall trees packed closely together. It feels suffocating, it’s becomes easy to forget what time of day it is with the sunlight mostly blocked by branches. They take a few steps togethers, hands intertwined, the Daryl begins to slow. Pandora knows him well enough to see some tension in his features, a tightness around his eyes Around them is silent though, she doesn’t feel the same nerves he does. 

“Take yah gun out.” 

“But I don’t…” Pandora’s fingers struggle to pull the gun from the holster on her belt, fingers feeling fat and clumsy. She doesn't even have the gun out all the way when she hears the arrow Daryl has already loosed.

She hears it then, the crack of a twig, a rustle in the bush. Gun held loss in her hands, her head snaps up to see Rosita stepping from behind the tree with Daryl’s arrow in her hand. 

“What the hell, asshole.” Rosita rages, stalking towards him. She doesn’t look at Pandora just centers her rage on Daryl. 

“You shouldn’t have come. Yah know ah got her.” 

Michonne steps out from behind Rosita, face twisting in anger.

“You shouldn’t have left.” She glares at Pandora now who slips the gun back in her belt trying to avoid the other woman’s eye. 

“No one  was supposed to see me.” It’s a whisper, like a child caught in an adult conversation. 

“Naw she  has the right to be here, same as me. When we split off from Sasha and Abraham Dwight was out there. He is in that burnt out with them girls, put a gun to our head, tied us up. I even tried to help him.” 

“So, you think it’s your fault?” Glenn asks stepping up towards them. He must have hung behind, Pandora hadn’t seen him

“No it’s mine.” 

Daryl glares at her, but doesn’t respond, only turns to Glenn again. “Ahm gonna go do what Ah should’ve done before.” 

“What, for her?” Glenn turns to Pandora then, eyes dark. “Denise  is gone . You’re doing this for you.”

Daryl stops looking from her to Glenn. She’s angry then as she doesn’t understand how they think she can just go home. This will help her, this is what she needs, to come out here and be the one to end it. Maybe then she will stop seeing Denise’s final moments play behind her eyelids, maybe instead they will  be replaced with Dwight dying. 

“I don’t give a shit. So what if it’s for me?” She snarls the words at them pushing past Daryl to walk again. 

“Daryl!” Its Glenn calling his name and she isn’t sure why. Until she feels Daryl’s fingers around her wrist stopping her. He holds her still, and when she glances at his face she can see the wheels turning in his head. 

“We all need to go back and figure this out from home.” Glenn stands in front of Daryl now. 

She’s locked in place by his fingers, anger bubbling inside her. They can’t make this choice for her, they can’t make her come home. Shifting her gaze, her eyes slid from Rosita to Michonne and back to Glenn. Michonne’s face  is set in stone, worry lines etched deep. Rosita is watching her, almost unblinking. They would force her to go back if Daryl allowed it, they would bring her home kicking and screaming. 

“Daryl let go,” She snarls the words at him as she tries to pull her wrist from his grasp. Daryl looks down at her, she can see something shifting on his face. Turning to Glenn, her anger turns to panic. Her heartbeats wild in her chest waiting for them to spring on her, drag her home.  

“Glenn, you have to go please. They need you at home, all of you.” Pandora pledes.

Glenn sighs, turning to her to shake his head, “Pandora, it’s gonna go wrong out here.” 

“So go.” She tries to control her voice, but it comes out with a slight tremor. “But I can’t.” 

Michonne steps in front of her now, her hand resting  lightly  on Pandora’s shoulder, Pandora tries to hide her flinch. “We’ll square it. I will. I promise you. Just come back, both of you.” 

Pandora looks from Daryl to Glenn and Michonne.  When she glances back to Daryl they hold each other's eyes for a second. She shakes her head and he only nods. She isn’t sure what makes him change his mind, but she knows he has. 

Turning back to Glenn, “We can’t.” 

They turn away then, Pandora following behind Daryl. With every step away from the group it’s better. They will go home, and if everything works out, she will come back with Daryl. 

“Daryl! Pandora!”

Pandora turns her head, casting Glenn a look over her shoulder. “We can’t” 

Ahead of her Daryl keeps moving, she must jog to catch up, but she hears Rosita behind her telling them she can’t either. In a few seconds, Rosita is stepping up next to her and they are all walking into the woods. She glances behind her only once to see Michonne and Glenn heading back the way they had come.

They walked in silence for a while until Rosita glanced over at her. 

“You have balls, that’s for sure.” Rosita couldn’t hide the small tug in the corner of her lip. “You were ready to go on your own.” 

“I was out on my own, got all the way there alone.” Pandora said, fingers drumming over the knife at her belt. 

“Only beat me to it because Ah was takin care of yah.” Daryl growled, throwing a glare back in her direction. 

Pandora flinched at that, just another reminder of how she was holding him back. She slows without noticing they keep going ahead of her. She almost doesn’t notice until Daryl is beside her again, slipping into her personal space. 

His hands find her face, tilting her head up so she is forced to look at him. “Pandora Ah didn’t mean that.” 

Pandora shook her head, “It’s ok. It’s true, I know.” 

“Ah take care of you, because Ah love you.” He whispers the last part, kissing her with a soft sweetness someone like him soundly have. 

Pandora can’t help but melt into him, let her body press closer. They take a second there the two of them enjoying a bit of stolen time, them he is stepping out of her arms.  They are walking again then, moving through the woods in silence.

Daryl stops every so often, peers down at the ground, runs his hands against the rough bark of the trees. Pandora tries to see what he is seeing, but their tracks are too faint here and she isn’t as good as he is. Instead, he holds his hand out and she walks alongside him as he tracks. Pandora is not sure how much time has passed, but she lets her mind wander trusting Daryl to lead her .  She snaps back to reality when she walks into Daryl’s back, stumbling back a few steps before catching herself on a branch. 

“Sorry, Pan.” Daryl reaches for her elbow, helping her stand up straight. “Somethin’ ain’t right.” 

Letting go of her arm he crouches down to the ground, running his fingers through the grass. 

“They doubled back this way.” He pauses and throws a quick glance over to Rosita who flexes  her fingers before reaching for her gun. Daryl stands, pulling his off his backpack and turning to glance at Pandora.  

“Stay behind me.” Daryl reaches out, tipping the gun up so  that  it’s pointing straight ahead. 

She does as she  is told , this time she feels the dread coiling into her stomach. Unable to help herself, she shakes despite still holding the gun. Together they all inch forward. In front of them, Daryl turns around, finger to his lips to signal them to be silent. Just like earlier, she takes half a second longer to hear what he hears. Somewhere ahead of them there is the sound of voices and the crackling of a fire. 

Rosita and Daryl hold their guns up. Peering around them she glimpses Glenn and Michonne, hands bound and mouths gagged. Her heart sinks, this is her fault. Without a sound , she slips from Daryl’s side with the intent on getting behind them. They see them through the trees shaking their heads frantically . There is a movement behind her and she understands a second too late. 

Fingers wrap themselves in her hair using it to pull her backwards. Pandora opens her mouth, sucking in air for a scream, but her captor is faster. A meaty hand shoots out to cover her mouth, cutting off the sound. Her brain skips over itself, unable to form a thought. Her body kicks in then, kicking her legs out and trying to make noise. 

The man holding her grunted, pressing his hand harder over her mouth. Pitching sideways, she tries to throw him off balance. Instead, she feels the white-hot pain of a blade biting into the flesh of her hip. She screams into the hand, the man behind her cursing.

Daryl’s head snaps back towards her then, her eyes are wild jumping left and right as she thrashes. From behind a tree, Dwight appears with a gun in his raised hands. She screams again, twisting despite the pain. She tries to warn Daryl, but he’s so focused on her, he doesn’t see Dwight.

“Hi Daryl.” He sneers, pulling the trigger and firing. 

When the bullet rips through Daryl’s shoulder, something snaps in her head. Maybe it’s the Xanax, maybe it's just rage. She opens her mouth and bites down as hard as she can until she can taste coppery blood. The man holding her screams, dropping his hand from her mouth. She keeps his skin between her teeth though, feeling the flesh tear away. Sucking in air and reaching for her boot, she pulls out the extra knife. In a flash, the skin of his neck is splits, painting his shirt in blood. 

There is only one of her though and too many of them. When the body drops, two more step in to take its place. She grins at them, flashing her blood covered teeth before spitting out the dead man’s flesh on the ground in front of them. Go down fighting her brain screams, so she does. She only has the knife, but they  are stunned into stillness watching her. Taking advantage she lunges the balding man doesn't see her coming. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she drives the tip of her blade into his eye while he tries to fling her off. Knife in hand he thrashes against her, the blade cutting deep into her arm. 

Hissing in pain, she screams at him, arms fly up to hammer the knife into his brain. That is the last person she gets because behind her there is screaming, then fireworks erupt in her skull, and then nothing. 

She wakes up in a panic, the images of the men she murdered fresh in her mind. Thrashing, she gasps struggling to fill her lungs.  Her vision  is blurred , world coming in and out of focus so she shuts her eyes again. Sobbing, she tries to lift her arm, but they both move together. Twisting her wrists, she feels the bindings. It makes her sob again, harder this time.  

“Shut the fuck up.” 

The tip of a boot connects with her arm, finding the same spot the blade did. Biting back a scream, she doubles over to curl into herself. This feels just like before, like waking up in the burnt forest. The thought makes her cry again. She tries to rub her wrists together to loosen the binding, but the rope doesn't loosen only rubs her skin raw.

“Pandora.” She is sure she hears Daryl’s voice whispering to her, but it can’t be, can it? Her body refuses the command to open so her eyes stay locked shut.  “Pan you gotta stay quiet, please.” 

His voice  is weak when he speaks again, in the darkness she sees the bullet hitting him.  She hears Daryl’s grunt as he goes down, feels that same cold rage as if it were fresh. The image shakes her, but she tries to cling to his voice. 

“Daryl.” It’s a whispered prayer, she is not sure he can even hear her. She tries to move towards him,  but she can’t open her eyes, and her hands  are bound . The tightness around her wrists reminds her she is a prisoner. She tries to still herself and listen. His breath is to her right, slow and shallow. She shifts just  slightly  enough so she feels the heat of his skin against hers. It helps, not much, but it’s something. 

“Hush now.”

She can’t stop the tears, but she does as she’s told and doesn’t make another sound.  She slips in and out of consciousness, coming up every now and then to catch  a bit of  the conversation. 

“This is the last road.” 

“He’s on his way here then?” 

“Ya, make sure they are ready.” 

Then she’s gone again, back into the cold darkness. 

When she gets up again it’s because she is being moved. Rough hands in her clothes drag her up and out of the van. The movement shakes her awake and sharpens whatever focus she can muster. 

“Come on, you got people to meet.” It’s Dwight’s voice again from somewhere beside her, he must  be holding her because when she shakes when he speaks. There is the white-hot pain again as someone grabs her shoulder, fingers digging into the hole the arrow left. She  begins to scream before biting down on the inside of her cheek to stop it. Her mouth fills with blood again, but this time it’s her own. 

When her eyes open, she glances behind her where men are pulling everyone else from the back of a van. Pandora catches Daryl’s eyes, his gaze locks with hers. Dwight growls something else to someone she can’t see, but he is still dragging her along. It’s only seconds before he is dumping her on the ground, causing her knees to collide with the ground. 

The pain rockets through her again, and she can’t think past it. Only slumps down forward, sobbing again. 

“Stay on your knees Princess, from what I hear this show is for you too.” 

Pandora can’t place the voice before she blacks out again. Her surroundings are different when she comes to. She has gone from the darkness to bright lights. Groaning, she tries to cover her eyes, bound wrists in her face now. Slumping forward her frame shakes from pair, and panic. There is enough sense left in her to get her head to move to the side to look at the other bodies around her. She is between Abraham and Michonne with Daryl on Michonne’s other side.  She tries to catch his eye, but his head is down, blood covering his arm. 

“ Alright ,” The voice is the same man as before. “We got a full boat. Let’s meet the man.

Pandora can hear the shallow breathing of Daryl near her, but everything else seems too quiet. She hears a knock on the door of the RV, something heavy settles into the pit of her stomach. She can’t lift her head, but wouldn’t want to anyway, so it doesn’t matter. If she looks, it’s real so if she doesn’t, maybe she can pretend this is nothing but a terrible nightmare. 

“Pissing your pants yet?” The voice she hears has a laughing under tone it, it makes her feel sick. His boots crunch on the gravel around them and still she refuses to look. She is intent on shrinking herself as much as she can.

“Boy, do I  have a feeling we’re getting close.” He’s walking now and in the eerie silence she can almost track his path by sound alone. 

The sound of his boot crunching on the gravel is right in front of her now, his voice raining down on her from where he stands. “Yeh. It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader?”

Pandora tries not to move, tries not to  be seen by this man. Her eyes stay fixed on the ground, hair falling out and around her face. The pain makes her shake, she can still feel the blood, slow, steady drops from her arm and side. How much blood had she already lost, how much before she blacks out again without coming back this time? 

“It’s him. He’s the guy.” Pandora can’t see, but knows they are talking about Rick. The boots move away from her, she watches them cross out of her vision. She breathes a tiny sigh of relief.

“Hi. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan, and I do not appreciate you killing my men”  

She flinches and curls more into herself, forehead touching the dirt under her as a boot kicks her from behind. The pain makes her straighten up. When nothing happens, she understands what they wanted of her. 

‘Stay up.’ She tries to tell herself. He would notice her bent over on the ground, maybe if she stayed like everyone else, she would pass under his notice. Shaking, she tries to sit up higher with everyone else. Abraham moves his fingers just  slightly  beside her, she wants to reach back for him, but her arms refuse to obey her commands. 

“Also when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool, not fucking cool.” 

In her head, she sees the men she has killed. There has been three killed by her own hand. There is no regret when she pictures their faces, she feels nothing. Not nothing, it brings a chilling rage, making her hungry for more blood.

“Even as we were rounding you all up for this little party, one of your people killed another two of my people. That little doll cut a throat open and shoved a knife in another one’s brain. Not fucking cool.” 

Negan must love the sound of his own voice because he keeps talking. Pandora is sure now he is staring at her.  She feels it, the weight of his stare on her head.  She isn’t sure what possesses her to do it, but she lifts her head and for a second, the man in red scarf is silent, watching her. The scene dips and darkens in her vision though and she breaks eye contact because she can’t hold her head up any longer. 

“You have no idea how not fucking cool that shit is. I think you’ll be up to speed shortly though.” The crunching is back and he’s moving again. When he stops, her field of vision fulls with his boots. She feels cold metal against her skin, biting into her flesh and tilting her head up. When her head is raised, Negan removes the object from her face. With her eyes locked to his, she sees the bat wrapped in barbed wire on his shoulder. He stares at her and his eyes are bright with just the hint of madness.

“You  are gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.” 

Pandora takes a deep breath as panic curls in her chest. She tries to put her head down again, but moves too slow. The damn bat is under her chin again, forcing her to look at Negan. 

“Head up Princess,” He purrs at her and she stares at him, trying to make her face blank. After a few seconds he turns away from her.

“ You see, Rick , no matter what you do, you don’t mess with the new world order. The new world order is this, and it’s  really  simple. So even if you’re stupid, which you may well be, you can understand it.” 

Negan steps back now, the bat over his shoulder again. “You ready. Here goes. Pay attention.” The bat moves again, so fast  that  it makes her head spin and her vision goes dark for a second, but she still hears Negan. “Give me your shit, or I will kill you.” 

Seconds pass in silence before Negan speaks again, “Today was career day. We invested a lot, so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me .” 

Darkness creeps into her vision it chases away the sound of Negan, even the pain  is gone for a few blissful moments. She floats in the nothingness and it’s so sweet. She is then jerked back again by a pulling on the back of her shirt. The person behind her hauls her up, sitting her upright again. She must have slumped forward as her forehead covered in dirt.

“And…you…are….it….”  Negan is walking back and forth in front of them now. Pandora struggles to understand the purpose. “Anybody moves, anybody says anything, we cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell you’re all gonna be doing all of that.” 

She had missed something again, but it doesn’t take her long to understand what’s happening next. The second the bat comes down on Abraham’s head she screams and can’t bring herself to stop the sound. It drowns everything else out. She is sure Negan is still speaking, but she can’t hear it. 

Something splashes against the side of her face, it’s hot and wet. For a second, all she hears is the sound of the bat breaking against Abraham’s skull. 

‘It’s blood,’ she thinks to herself. ‘It’s Abraham’s blood.’ 

That stops the screaming, but only so she can double over and empty the contents of her stomach onto the floor in front of her. The movement caused whatever dried blood had covered the wound in her side to open, fresh blood soaking her shirt again. It makes her feel light-headed.

Negan continued to bash in what  was left of Abraham until his head was nothing but bone, blood and brain. She tries not to look, not wanting this to be her last memory of him. It was like a car crash though, she can't pull her eyes away. When Negan swings the bat down for the final time, he steps back laughing. 

“Oh my goodness! Look at this.” Negan flicks the bat again blood flies in both directions. Something hits her hair and she lets out another scream, voice already raw. 

“For fucks sakes, someone shut the princess up.” 

It’s her Negan is talking about, but she can’t seem to make it stop can’t shut her mouth against the sound. From behind her, fingers tangle in her hair again to wrench her head until she is looking at the sky. With her neck this far up it’s hard to breathe and without enough air, her scream  is choked off. 

“Wait a fucking minute.” The hand from her hair  is gone , replaced now by fingers gripping her chin. Negan kneels in front of her his face only inches from hers. She sobs, trying to pull her face from his grasp. The grin he gives her splits his face, it makes her blood run cold. 

“Well fuck me sideways. I know you Princess.” Negan breathes the sentence, fingers tightening on her jaw when she tries to pull away. He jerks her head to the side slightly , thumb rubbing the edge of her chin. “Pandora Knight, Olympic gold medal winner. Didn’t recognize you covered in blood there Princess.” 

“Get your fucking hands off her.” 

She hears him before she sees him, Daryl comes from the corner of her eye, swinging a fist at Negan’s face. It connects and Negan drops her chin, stumbling backwards. In seconds, men come from somewhere behind her to pin Daryl to the ground in front of her. 

“No, no, no.” Pandora screams again, falling forward toward him. Reaching her hands out for him, she doesn’t get far before someone grabs the back of her shirt to haul her away.  Daryl’s face  is turned towards her, pressed into the dirt by the men holding him down. “Please.” She doesn’t know what she is begging for. For Negan to let Daryl up, for them not to hurt him, for whatever might happen next not to happen. 

“Oh my! That is a no-no. The whole thing. Not one bit of that shit flies here.” 

“No!” She screams again, struggling against being held. She tries to reach him to throw her body over his, do something. 

Dwight appears in front of her, crossbow pointed down, “Do you want me to do it? Right here?”

Negan kneels back down, eyes fixed on Daryl on the ground. Pandora is sobbing now, pulling against the hold on her shirt. Brain skipping  over  itself, she tries to think of something, anything to do. It’s  the way that Daryl stares at her that makes her stop struggling, it’s him mouthing for her to stop that makes her go still.

“No, no you don’t kill that, not until you try a little.” Negan sneers kneeling in the dirt he flicks some of Daryls hair from his eyes before standing up again.  

“Should I shut her up then?” 

The crossbow swings in her direction and Dwight glares at her. Cold rage creeps up her spine, all sense of self-preservation vanished. They should have left him to die in those woods. That would have been better than he deserved. 

“Better make sure I stay down this time.” Her voice is void of all emotion, her eyes nothing but cold fury.

“Woho Listen to her,” Negan stands up now, laughing as he leans back on his heels. “Put that fucking thing away Dwight I like her.” 

“Anyway, that’s not how it works. I already told you people first ones free then what’d I say? I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions. Now, I don’t know what kind of lying assholes you’ve been dealing with, but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important, I need you to know me. So back at it. No expectations.” 

He swings the bat in front of her again, just an inch away from her face. Then, the bat is nothing but a blur until it comes crashing down into Glenn’s head. Somewhere to her left she hears Maggie screaming, the sound burns itself into her brain. Pandora can't look, can't bring herself to lift her head. Daryl had been trying to protect her. All of this was her fault. If she wasn’t so fucked up, she would have been fine. That realization makes her sob again, a deep sound creeping up from her gut.

The world around her dips and darkens on the edges, but the sounds of him smashing in Glenn’s head follow her into the darkness. 

When she comes to again it’s warm outside. The sun is shining down into her eyes, a patch work of bright light through the treetops. The world is awake now, the once silence filled with the sound of birds, and other creatures in the trees.  She has curled into herself at some moment her head resting on her folded legs. 

“Load them up, I want the Princess too.” 

There’s hands on her then, grabbing her arms. With her wrists still bound, she couldn’t fight back at first. Terror fogs her brain and mixes with adrenaline it  makes her stronger than she should be. She kicks and bucks her legs, catching them in the leg a few times. The man to her right elbows her, landing right where the knife had. Pain shoots through her, blood pouring anew from the wound. It stops her struggle long enough for them to shove her in the back of the van they brought her in. Seconds later, Daryl  is  loaded up with her and the doors snap shut. 

In the darkness, she sobs, twisting her wrists to get them unbound. 

“Pandora, Pandora Let me help you.” 

She hears his voice, but can’t see him. She feels him though, feels his fingers working at the knot. When it falls loose she sobs with relief, falling forwards into his arms. He holds her firm with his good arm, there is a slight tremble in his frame. That frightens her more than anything. He holds her as tight as he can with his uninjured arm as she sobs, unable to stop.

“Pan listen.” Daryl holds her face between his hands to get her to focus. She can't though. Everything hurts and here in the darkness all she can see is the ruined mess of Abraham and Glenn. 

“Pandora?” He tries again to get her attention, but outside someone bangs on the side of the van. 

The sound sends her flying into the corner, huddled down as small as she can be.  Panic rages. She is sure they will open the door again to pull her out, kicking and screaming back into the line up. So, she curls up as small as she can, hand over her mouth to stop the sounds of her sobs. In the darkness she hears Daryl shifting, movements slower now. 

Under her, the van roars to life. Ignoring the pain, she shoves past Daryl who has positioned himself in front of her and goes flying for the door. She isn’t sure what she will do, just know she has to try. Her open palms slammed on the doors not finding any handles. She screams, shoving her body against the doors. Nothing happens. Nothing opens, not even a sliver.

“Pandora,” he’s behind her now, fingers pulling her backwards. He tugs her into the van, pushing her back into the corner. 

She doesn't realize she's crying again until Daryl is wiping her face. Blinking, she looks at him as his face twists in pain. Pandora reaches for him, pulling him closer to her. Her body protests, pain shooting up into her head, but she ignores it. 

“Ahm sorry.” The end of the sentence is bitten off, word cut short by the harsh shutting of his jaw. off. He's trying to control himself for her, trying to make it seem like he's in control. His arms are around her now, but it's not the same, she doesn't feel safe anymore. 

Pandora just shakes her head, unable to form words. The van keeps moving, creeping forward at a slow pace. Her head  is filled with thought of being a captive again. She can't bare to close her eyes, frightened at what she might see.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? What did you think? This chapter was my baby! It is laying the foundation for a whole new series of events to take place. Let me know what you think! I love comments and kudos!


	34. Captive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here I am again. I'm with a regular beta reader atm, so this chapter has only been looked at my myself. Which basically means please be nice lol. I have to stay I struggled with this chapter, so let me know what you think!

 

Captive

She never shuts her eyes, only sits stiff-backed, shoved in the corner of the van. After a few failed attempts Daryl had stopped trying to speak to her, instead he leans against her legs. They pass the time in silence and after a while his breathing deepens, Pandora reaches out and lets her hand sit on his chest to feel the filling and emptying of his lungs. When the van stops he jolts awake, the movement shocks her back into the present moment. 

Shifting his frame, he uses his body to hide her. She wants to cry at that. Even now, Daryl is still putting her first. Behind him, Pandora curls into herself as if the darkness could aid in hiding her. Maybe she can make herself small enough and vanish. It’s no use. Part of her knows that the moment they come for her she will fight, but right now she wants to hide. 

“Yah do whatever they say ok? Ya do whatever you gotta to stay alive.” Daryl is panicking now, it’s written all over his face. He turns again to face her, trying to read her face in the darkness. He shakes her, hands on her upper arms, “Do ya hear me? You stay alive, yah wait for me.” 

In the dim light she can make out the look on his face, it’s panicked, his eyes wide and searching her own. Panic flares again, the beast threatening to over take what little mental capacity she has left. There is something she should say to him, she should promise him she will try, but she can’t. What would happen the moment the doors opened, she didn’t know, but she knew it wouldn’t include him. They wouldn’t keep them together. 

“I love you.” Her lips ghost over his, just the lightest touch. Her voice shakes, laced with tears. His words ring in her head, live, he wants her to live. She wasn’t sure she had it in her anymore to be a captive again. She doesn’t say it though, doesn’t tell him that somewhere in her head she is already planning how she will end her life.  When she tries to kiss him one more time, but the doors swing open. 

Light flood the small space, two men outlined by the light behind them.  

“Stop standing around and get them the fuck out of there.” Negan’s voice cuts through everything else, sounding so clear to her. Something in her wants to look for him, needs to see his face to burn it in her mind. If she lives long enough, she will kill him. For a second that thought stops everything, making her numb, she’ll kill him and Dwight. For everything he has done, Negan would pay with everything. She will burn this place to the ground if she has to. 

There is a rustle of fabric the sound of shifting movements, head snapping up she sees then men moving towards them. They come for Daryl first like she knew they would, she watches them drag him from her side. He fights them, still refusing to go easy. They will come for her next and in those seconds she's wild again. Her brain shuts down and her body refuses to go down without a fight. Sometimes she thinks her mind and her body are two different people. When her mind is ready to give up, her body seems to rebel. 

A man steps inside the van now and reaches for her, meaty hand clamping around her upper arm, she screams, sound filling the small space. Her foot flies up to catch him in the chest, or she tries to, but the world around her shifts in her vision. He’s fast, a free hand on her ankle to pull her off balance. Her other leg bends, lowering her to ground as she tries to jerk her leg away. She’s weak, and she knows it, she's lost too much blood and hasn’t eaten in too long. The man jerks her leg, sending her flying down to the floor. The metal floor of the van crashes against the back of her skull.

Fireworks explode in her brain and the last thing she hears is Negan shouting.

Pandora dreams about Abraham in the darkness. In her dreams, they sit on the guard tower in the middle of the night. He is smoking a cigar, she is smoking a cigarette from the pack he found for her. He’s laughing at something she said, she can’t quite remember what it was. The night is clear and cool, and around them everything is silent. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He asks her, puffing the cigar. 

There is a time he asked this before, she doesn’t remember it happening here, but she laughs and rolls her shoulders, “Sleep is for the mentally stable.” 

There is a sound somewhere in the woods, a rustling of leaves. a whistle cuts through the air, something pierces her skin. A glance down relieves blood is seeping from the arrow, she’s staring at the sharp point sticking out of her body. “Oh” 

“You alright kid?” 

Turning, she glances at Abraham, but it’s not him anymore, not really. Instead, she is staring at the ruined mess of his head. When she opens her mouth to scream, no sound comes out, and around her everything is different again, Abraham’s gone. She is back in the line up, she can hear them, her group. Rosita and Sacha’s sobs cut through the night air, but she’s alone and kneeling in the dirt next to what used to be Abraham.

Negan’s laugh cuts through the sounds and he’s there in front of her twirling that god forsaken bat. He laughs and laughs until the scene changes again. 

She wakes a few times comes in and out of sleep, hears voices, whispered directions, shouted curses, her own screaming. Every time she goes under again her dreams continue in the same pattern, no matter how they start they always end with Negan swinging his bat.

Pandora isn’t sure how many times she comes up from darkness only to go back under she only knows this time when she opens her eyes it's different. Her vision is sharper than before, she doesn’t sense the murkiness of drugs in her veins. The room is unfamiliar and for a second she wonders if they had to put her in a different room in medical, her old room might be being used for someone.  Her head pounds still, pressure behind her eyelids making the room come in and out of focus. She can’t remember how many times she was hit in the head since this whole thing started, but she is sure it has been a lot. They will fix her up though, at home she will be fine.

‘This isn’t home.’ A voice in her head whispers it and blinking again and again she realizes its right, she isn’t home. Her eyes close for a second and she sits in the darkness. Images of being shoved into and pulled out of the van flashes behind her eyes. Then it’s everyone she loves on the ground their head in a red ruin. A tremor runs through her and she tries to run her hands over her face, but nothing happens. Pandora gives her other arm a hard jerk, nothing happens.  Eyes wide and fever bright she glances down only to see the blank bands across her wrists and ankles. 

Panic flares for a second when she realizes she’s tied down to bed. Shutting her eyes her breathing comes in quick suffocating gasps. The panic is waves rolling over her crashing against each other, she can’t breathe now her chest tightens painfully heart threatening to burst through her rib cage. In her head, she thinks of Denise thinks of the lessons on how to stop a panic attack. Focus, she tries to focus, it’s harder with her eyes closed so she opens them. 

‘What do you see? What do you feel?’ The voice in her head sounds strangely like Denise, and Pandora pictures the plastic grey elephant toy she used to teach her this. So, with her eyes open now she tries to focus, to map the surrounding room. It doesn’t help, the walls are slate grey and empty, no windows just bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling casting harsh white light. 

It looks like a prison, it might as well be. The urge to struggle flares again and she twists her wrists a fraction to feel the fabric rubbing against her skin. Instead of letting the panic consume her she tries to listen to the surrounding sounds. Inside of the room is silent but every so often she hears footsteps moving past her door. She listens the way Daryl taught her to see if they belong to the same person. He was always better at it than she was though, and through the storm in her mind she can focus. They leave and in her head she counts to 20 only to hear the same steps return a second time. 

When the steps walk by her a third-time self preservation kicks in, and she is twisting her wrists against the bands. Something catches against the bands holding her still, it pinches painfully. Glancing down she finds an IV sticking out of her hand. She’s caught it, ripped it half way-out blood dripping down her wrist and hand. The blood soaks her hand and when she pulls again, the IV pulls out ripping the skin blood gushes, but her hand slips free. 

Pandora’s hand stings painfully, but she ignores it leaning over to unbuckle the bands on her other wrist and ankles. Only then does she take a moment to breathe a moment to let her mind catch up. That's when the tears come again in that moment when she realizes she is alone. She tries to breathe tries to calm the panic clawing its way up into her chest. In her head, she hears Daryl, hears him beg her to stay alive to do anything. But this is too much being a captive again. That’s what she is a prisoner of these people, this mad man with a bat. 

When she thinks of Negan, she sees the bat again, pictures the red mess of Glenn and Abraham, and there isn't anything to bring her back. The space in her chest gapes open wide, a pit of darkness. A sob breaks through her lips while her hand presses over her mouth the sound. It doesn't help she can't stop it, can’t pull herself together long enough to do anything. Like before Pandora tries to plug the hole, tries to fit her body into itself.  

She’s spinning now thinking about home and Daryl, and how she might never see any of that again. She had big plans for when she untied herself, instead she finds herself frozen.  The pain from her wounds is small, blood drips from her hand though staining the crisp white sheets. But soon she doesn’t even feel that anymore. 

She thinks about Daryl again about his desperate plea for her to live to do as she’s told. The blood pooling in the bed from her hand isn’t a good start. Absently she takes the tube in her hand examining in between her fingers, the clear liquid drips from the needle tip pooling on to the jeans she’s still wearing. It is a poor start, but she never promised Daryl she would try. Maybe she didn’t want to try anymore. 

Between her fingers the needle tip catches the light. Its sharp still with a well places slash on her wrist she may bleed out before anyone comes to check on her. Daryl’s last memory of her would be her cowering in the back of that van she would hate to leave him like that. Her hand shakes as she turns her arm over to expose the vein. The needle shakes between her fingers, it doesn’t matter its steady when she presses it down on the pulsing vein at her wrist.  She doesn't need to press hard before a small drop of blood collects under the needle. It’s a sharp pain a first, it focuses all her sense to that point, to the blood pooling from the needles tip.

Pandora doesn’t hear the door open until it’s too late and Negan is already in the room. The sound of the door hitting the wall makes her jump snapping her head in his direction. Flying from the bed she finds the corner leaving droplets of blood in her wake. The needle is forgotten in the fog of panic that now fills her head.

“Get her to the fucking doctor.” His tone is angry, words clipped at the edges with sharpness. 

Her hands fly out to keep them away, even though no one has moved. She doesn’t cry again, instead she is silent eyes travelling up to stare at Negan. He has the bat, but it's in his hands hanging down at his side. It’s clean now but in her mind's eye it’s covered in blood. Two men stand next to him watching her. Negan watches her too open and curious for a few silent seconds then it's gone face hardening again. 

“I meant now!” 

“But Negan…” 

He says something else that she doesn’t catch because she’s trying to move again to find another corner in the room. For a split second, she considers running for the door but there is movement again this time it's Negan is moving towards her. He reaches for her and the scream she lets out is high pitched verging on hysteria.  

“Come on princess.” She tries to shove him away her head swims,  he has his hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm pulling her upwards. 

The pain is bright flashes in her eyes he’s holding the arm with the knife wound and she isn’t sure he knows or cares. Pandora screams again but this time it’s cut short as ice rushes into her veins. She struggles for a moment limbs still thrashing against his hold, it doesn’t last long. In seconds her limbs are a dead weight, arms falling to her sides. Negan is still holding her up which is good because she isn’t sure her legs could do the job alone. Turning her head she sees one of the men at her side the needle in his hand catch the light and her heart sinks. 

Lifting her free hand, she tried to push Negan again knowing she can’t do much of anything. “Please.” She begs him crying again completely helpless. He is just watching her now then he pulls her towards the door. She wants to fight him part of her knows she should that she needs too. But she’s tried now and everything seems hard and for a second she can’t remember why she is struggling in the first place. That’s a dangerous thought not remember why she should fight, everything is so fleeting thoughts appear and disappear like smoke. 

It's a squeaking sound that pulls her back from the cloud of drugs. She realizes she is moving down a hallway. Doors flash past her moving too fast for her to focus on making her head spin more. Her hand moves fingers splaying out on her legs, she isn’t walking. It takes her a second to process that, she isn’t being carried either. The squeaking is back though going round and round. From the corner of her vision there is movement a gray streak darting past her, she reaches out fingers brushing the smooth rubber surface. It’s a wheel chair, the wheels squeak painful as she’s pushed. 

“Watch out there Princess.”  It’s Negan’s voice above her. He must be pushing her because he came to get her she remembers came into the room and dragged her out. Not before drugs she thinks sluggishly, they had to drug her first. It reminds her of the beginning when Daryl found her a screaming mess when they kept her drugged for days before trying to help her. Funny how things come full circle, how she always ends up kicking and screaming. 

“Doc will patch you right the fuck up then we can have a chat.” 

Pandora tries to look at him but her head refuses to obey her command instead it rolls forward until her chin is touching her chest. Everything is fog around her, thought come and go like smoke and she can't seem to lock them down. Somewhere she's knows this is wrong. That she shouldn’t sit here allowing herself to be lead down some unknown hallway by a mad man. Yet the moment that thought slips into her brain it's gone again. 

Around her there are tiny pops of light. It's too bright against the cold darkness of the walls. Flexing her fingers she lifts her hand to cover her eyes, her hand drips droplets of warm blood onto her face and neck. The movement also causes a pulling in her arm and side but no pain. 

“Watch it here.” Negan’s voice is above her still he shows his steps showing the forward progress of her chair. 

Under her she feels the bump on the floor, it’s hardly feels like anything. Then as she struggles to see through her fingers the space around her changes. It's a room lights too bright air too sterile. It seems like a hospital and for a moment she pictures she's back in medical. Pandora can almost see the harsh white walls see the empty beds lining the space. This room is different though, and Denise isn't here. 

Something to her right she hears something, the sound of a gasp and of flesh connecting with flesh. Lowering her hands she tries to turn in the direction but Negan stands in front of her. 

“Well well fuck me didn't even think you'd be here. Let him go Dwight let him see how well we take care of her.” 

When Negan steps away from her field of vision Daryl is moving towards her. Gasping she reached for him movements slow she lifts her hands out for him. Pandora is sure she’s crying but everything is muddled and slow so she can’t be sure. Though she hasn’t seen her own reflection since she’s woken up she imagines that he looks much worse than she does. Dressed in a dirty off white jumpsuit with an A painted on the front in red, his hair hangs listlessly in front of his eyes.

“Hey Pan.” Kneeling in front of the wheelchair hands gripping hers, so tight her bones grind together. 

Pandora wants to say something, anything thing. She wants to answer him she does she wants to grab his hands with the same tight fierceness that he is grabbing her but her body will not obey. She's swimming underwater everyone else is underwater with her, but she can't find her way to the surface. The most she can do is lean forward, shift her weight trying to get closer. As she moves, it’s too much too fast, and she is sure she is about to fall out of the chair. Daryl is fast like always reaching out to catch her as her head falls into the crook of his neck. 

“What did you do?” Daryl’s voice is hard a dangerous tone underneath his question. 

Somewhere to her left Negan only laughs, “Fucking firecracker this one. Won’t let us get anywhere near her without a little help.”  

There is a shifting beside her she doesn’t see it not with her face now hidden in Daryl's neck. She feels him though feels Negan standing over her a heavy hand on her shoulder. In front of her Daryl goes stiff hands tightening around her middle, she should move away pull her shoulder from under Negan’s hand but she can’t. The edges of her vision are darkening, she has a few fleeting moments of consciousness left. With whatever strength, she has left she uses it to speak lips pressed against the side of Daryl’s neck she whispers that she loves him and tells him to fight. Her voice is low so low that she is sure Daryl is the only one that hears her. 

Then she’s gone slipping back into unconsciousness as easily as she wakes up. 

Waking up is different Pandora is on her side legs tucked up into her chest, limbs free to move and twist as they please. She doesn’t open her eyes right away, instead screws them shut enjoying the last few moments of peaceful darkness. Too many memories play behind her eyes, they mix with dreams making it harder to find the reality in all of it. She starts with the things she knows, Denise is dead, Abraham is dead, Glenn is dead, Daryl has been taken, she has been taken. Again. Her truths are horrible the world she occupies looks too much like the one Daryl saved her from. There is nothing safe anymore, whatever home she thought she had that’s gone. 

When her tears sting her closed lids again she opens her eyes, intent on stopping the cycle of panic. Laying on her side the pain is a slow steady pulse it keeps her focused, keeps her mind from wandering too far. So she stays like that laying on where the knife stuck her she’s sure. It allows her to focus on what she sees. The room is different smaller maybe, but it looks like a room. From where she lays there are two pocket doors, the walls are painted a pale yellow, white doors shining brightly against the paint. When she turns over there is another door, this one larger all steel grey she assumes it leads out. At the end of the bed is a plush chair, and a dresser. It almost looks like a bedroom nothing like a blank empty room she woke up in the first time. 

Pandora decides it times to sit up, she’s spent enough time coming out of being drugged that she takes it slow rolling up until she’s in a sitting position in the bed. In front of her sits another door she doesn’t notice before she wonders where it leads but knows better than to check right now. There is a tremble in her frame that speaks to her inability to stand. So instead she sits collects her thoughts in the growing silence.

The pain flares again as she turns to the right. Shaking fingers life the helm of the shirt she’s wearing. Before she gets it all the way up she realizes it’s not what she came in. Her pants are different to a light grey sweatpants hanging loosely around her legs. There is a flash of herself being awake of a brown haired women helping her dress. It’s only bits and pieces chunks of the scene missing like a badly done movie. Her head gets a sharp shake then she’s lifting her shirt to look.

On the right side there is a shiny new set to stitches holding her skin shut. It had been deeper than she realized, at the moment she almost didn’t feel the pain her brain focused on nothing more than killing the man. The wound was nothing another scar to add to her collection another life to add to the blood already on her hands. Her shirt falls from her fingers, it can only be assumed that her arm looks the same the desire to look is suddenly gone. 

The room is silent the type of silent that sets her nerves on edge, Pandora has been sitting now for so long her muscles begin to cramp. So she stands, the movements slow. Left leg first foot pressing down into the ground counting to ten in her head until she is sure she won't fall over. Then her right leg follows the same process, she realizes then she will have to release the death grip she has on the head board now. For a few long seconds she doesn’t let go only stands still hands a white grip on the wooden post of the bed.

Pandora is sure she can walk, sure she can make it to check all the doors then back. There is a type of irrational fear in that idea, like that would be what makes it real for her. As if moving away from this bed somehow makes this the real world, she knows it real she does but if she can just hide in the bed a bit longer. If she closes her eyes, she can see Daryl in the back of that van begging her to stay alive. Fighting is how you live she has to reminds herself. Fighting is how she lived through the first time she was taken, not to fight that was to die. And maybe, just maybe she wasn’t ready to die yet. 

The steps are slow easy every time she feels herself falter or tip she stops, taking long deep breaths before trying again. She made it to the first door, light filtered from under the tiny crack. Her hand grips the handle of the door, it didn’t move and she struggled to shove down the panic.  That’s the outside door, it locked. As it logically would be, but still Pandora panics. Turning she crosses the room in hurried panicked steps, heading for the two white doors. 

With her hands shaking around the two knobs she pulled with so much force. The doors fly open almost sending her flying, she reacted quickly though. Tightening on the door handles she could keep herself standing. In front of her was nothing, but a closet filled with dresses, shirts and shirts. Its women clothes she notes. Most of the things inside are black with a few hits of colour here and there.

Tightening her hand on the handle she turned leaving it open and going to the other door. This one was heavier but with a quick jerk it opens, revealing a two-piece washroom with a sink and a toilet. She stumbled inside right away emptying her bladder into the toilet. Finished and standing at the sink she realized that mirror has been taken down. Licking her lips she grabs a towel from the side and runs it under hot water using it to wash her body. When she’s finished, she finds herself in the closet finding one of the few pairs of pants she has seen. A skin-tight pair of tights, with a long black t-shirt. 

She flicks the light off taking a moment to sit in the darkness. Five breaths later she was coming back into the room, on hand gripped the edge of her shirt the other reached out pulling the covers of the bed. Slipping down she covers herself pulling the blankets up to her chin. Pandora stares unblinking at the door. He’ll come back for her, he promised when he told her to wait. 

She felt more human than she had in days. But she had been awake for longer than usual giving her time to think. Daryl’s plea is forever in the forefront of her mind. When she looks deep inside herself, she isn’t sure she can see any fight left. But she did shower, and she did dress herself that was something. She’s so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn’t hear the door open behind her. Or notice the figure stepping through. 

When he sighed, she snapped back into the real world that turning her head to face Negan. He sits comfortably the plush chair near the door the bat leaning on the side. He stared at her silently for a long moment before he speaks. 

“Well, well good morning Princess.” His voice as a twang to it, a hitch that stops her breath just for a second.

She can't speak can't make her brain form words. So seconds pass in silence as they both stare. She takes him in, he’s clean now no longer covered in blood like he is in her dreams. He wears the same black jacket white T-shirt under it. The red scarf is back too she can’t look at that for too long it reminds her of blood. Abraham’s blood to be more exact on her face chunks in her hair. A shiver runs up her arms pulling her knees to her chest she breaks the eye contact. 

“You are quite the handful you know that.”  He’s so relaxed, leaning back casually in his chair watching her.  “Don’t even know why the fuck I brought you here.” 

She doesn’t answer again not sure if she could even if she wanted too, but she doesn’t want to. Instead she keeps her eyes down focuses on her own fingers as she curls them into a tight fist. 

“From what I hear you’re a fucking force wrapped up in a beautiful crazy package.”

“I've killed three of your men I think..” Her voice comes out on its own, like it’s a person thinking and feeling separate from her brain. She didn’t think those words she is almost sure but there they are hanging in the surrounding air. Pandora can’t help but feel a sick sense of pride when she thinks back to the men she killed. 

Negan’s laughter is loud a booming sound the echo’s off the bare walls. Pandora flinches it sounds like it did in her dreams. Her hands tighten into fists again nails biting into the flesh. 

“Fuck yes you did Princess. I should be pissed I should be so fucking mad but I’m not you know why?” 

Pandora can’t answer again can’t even look at him. She tried to make herself small again, like she learned at the camp. Negan doesn’t allow it though he’s not like the wolves, the chair under him groans in protest then his fingers are on her chin forcing her head up. 

“Do you know why?” his tone is darker now fingers tightening demanding an answer from her. 

“No.” The answer is whispered Pandora stills herself fighting the urge to pull her face free of him. As always, she thinks of Daryl wonders what he would do in her situation. Would be fight? Or would be bend allow himself to be frightened into submission. The moment passed, and she knew he would fight he would put all he had into fighting. So, she kept her head up eyes clear. 

Grinning Negan let’s his hand drop leaning away resuming his casual pose. He doesn’t leave the bed though, and that sends Pandora moving back as much as she can, folding herself smaller against the headboard. 

“Because you my dear Pandora have a giant set of lady balls and I like that.”  He's staring at her now unblinking. Clapping he breaks eye contact. “Besides you’re a fucking celebrity Pandora you won a gold medal for this great country!” 

Pandora flinches turns her head from him to hide the tears now swimming in her eyes. She didn’t want to talk to him, doesn’t want to think about who she had been before this. Silent crept between them then, Pandora relaxed into it waiting for him to leave. Instead he only sat back got more comfortable in the chair. 

“Sorry Princess how stupid of me you must be hungry.” 

Negan gets up then the mattress springs backup without his weight under it. Pandora watches him move to the door, his stride is long powerful. She can help but stare.  The door behind him opens then very quickly someone is placing a plate of food into his hand, and he’s snapping the door shut. 

“Here I got ya something.” 

Pandora screams at her body to move at her arms to reach up and take the plate. She doesn’t though just can’t and then he is doing it for her. He takes her hand and molds them ready, and the moment he puts the plate down does she begins eating. Her body wakes up screaming for food after the first bite, and soon the plate is clear. Sometimes she hates it, hates her body for remember that it is indeed alive. How she would rather curl into a ball in this bed and waste away. 

Negan is laughing as he opens the door to trade the empty plate with a full one. It more of the same that he gives her fruit meat and some carrots. Again, she clears it paying little mind to the food as she eats placing the empty plate at the end of the bed. 

Negan is back in the chair leaning back casually watching her again, “See Princess I’m not a monster. I’ll take good care of you, you’re my new insurance policy.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it, sometimes I feel very bad for my poor Pandora. She deserves to be happy and safe, but who are we kidding with that! Drop me a comment or some kudos I love it! Also if you know someone or are interested in becoming my beta reader please let me know!


	35. Defiant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought I was going to get this sooner. Editing takes me so much time, I end up changing this. You all know how it is. I am without a Beta reading so all the editing is my own, which also means all the mistakes are my own!   
> Well here we go buckle up kids, it's going to get messy.

Three days pass and Negan doesn’t come back. At first it fine, better even. Pandora turns their conversation over and over in her head, insurance policy he called her. She is here to make sure Rick behaves himself, Negan didn’t need to tell her what happens if they don’t play nice she knows. She sees it every time she goes to sleep at night, the price of defiance.  Being used again in any way makes her angry.   So she spends her days in an endless loop of rage, sometimes tries to plan, always she wonders where Daryl is. But as the hours pass Pandora is alone with her thoughts more than she likes to be. 

The more she thinks in silence the more anxiety tries to choke her. Pandora spirals in those days goes spinning into panic and with no one to help bring her back they run their course.  She doesn’t have the strength to get up when it’s over, instead she lays there. 

She slips in and out of fit full dreams no matter the time of day. Someone keeps bringing food to her room when she’s asleep, but she doesn’t eat it. Only lets the plates sit piling up on the dresser. 

In the time, she’s awake she explores the room, looks through every inch under the mattress behind the little furniture. The room was bare, not even a window. Vents above her pumped cool air down into the space. They had power  then or some of them had power. As she’s walking past the door, she hears footsteps. 

It reminds her of Negan’s first visit; she pictures him bursting through the door, the bat in hand. That image has her moving to the bed she had to  push on the far side of the room. In the bed, she sobs and keeps her hand pressed hard over her mouth. Sometimes it’s easy to hide when you quiet, better to save the energy and use it for something better than making all that noise. Pandora falls asleep that night dreaming of Daryl.

When she wakes on the third day her body groans in protest. There is a few  long seconds where she does nothing but try to test her muscles. Stretches her arms above her head, pulls her knees to get chest. They’re too weak shaking from strain with any movement almost immediately.  Too much stress not enough food and water, she wasn’t sure. But she ignored it shoved in down into darker places where it wouldn’t bother her. A dull pain still radiates from her side when she moves or twisted a certain way, so she twists and moves in a certain way. The pain is sharp, and it wakes her better than any cup of coffee. 

The pain brings a moment of lighten bolt clarity to her brain, and she thinks she tried of being a victim. Never stop fighting that was always what she told herself. Every time the dead came for her she fought, every time the wolves came for her she fought them. She would fight this, she could fight this, fight them. They were  just men; she had killed men before. 

 

A quick scan of the room and she noticed that there was no fresh food, no one had come yet. Pandora takes a plate smashes it against the floor and collects the biggest share she can find. Her grip is tight on her piece of shard, she’s tiny enough to slip behind the door. The moment the handle moves she is ready and when the frame steps through she is in motion.  She launches herself forward and lands on the figures back. There is a grunt of surprise a whispered curse, still she holds on. To the right she hears glass shattering on the ground. But she’s fast even half starved, and when a hand flies out for her, she makes a quick slash. She gets something what she can’t tell the body part; the shard hits something she pushes harder. The figure under her growls a hand treads itself into her hair yanking her off balance. 

“Princess I would have been so nice to you.” His voice freezes her in motion stops the blood in her veins. His fingers tighten again and  then he drags her in front of him. “Look at the mess you made.” 

He shoved her to the ground almost into the broken glass. Pandora almost doesn't stop in time, she is inches short of slicing her arm open on a shard of broken glass. She can picture herself now like Abraham and Glenn her head a ruined mess. Negan might kill her here, it wouldn’t be the worst. No, she might even welcome the end. 

“Clean this fucking mess up Princess. I’ll be back.” Negan snarls at her kicking the broken plate.

Then he’s door shutting hard behind him. Pandora is still on the ground forehead touching to cold cement floor. Negan’s voice floats back to her be nice, that’s what he wanted her to be nice. Fuck this, fuck all of this. Fuck being used as  a pawn in the game she wants no part in. Pandora doesn't cry again, can't bring herself to find tears. Instead a scream rips its way from her throat, rocking her ears. fingers found a plate and hurled it against the wall. Glass and food splashed outwards. 

It’s a release the act of breaking things. The sound of the chattering glass filling the silence left in Negan’s wake. She rages after that smashing everything she can get her hands on. She destroys the rest of the plates hurling them at the wall and watching food spatter over everything nearby. The dresser is next, it take no effort to pull the drawers free leave the contents spread out on the floor. 

 

When it over, she’s emptied herself out she curls into the corner behind the door.  Her shoulders press against the wall behind her as if she could press hard enough to fall into the wall itself. She’s not hidden she knows it , the moment they shut the door there she is. 

The handle jiggles and she goes stiff. No, someone is coming in here.  Whiping her head around she tries to find a place to hide. There isn’t, she has destroyed the room.  The bed is flipped over into the corner, mattress ripped open insides spilling out. The door opens and closes before she  can even finish the thought she's having . 

A light if flicked on over head and it's like the sun has risen in the room. In the light she has done a number on the room, it’s a ruined mess. Negan is  there standing over her now, shaking his head. Two other men standing behind him, she doesn't miss their hands on their guns. 

She wonders what their instruction is, to shoot her if she moves. Are they scared of her? They might be, she’ s wild here. More animal than human, more rage than logic. 

“Princess, I thought you would  be good .” Negan’s voice found her cutting through the fog in her brain. 

Seconds pass in silence as Negan stares down at her, face twisting with rage. She flinches pushing herself back again trying to become smaller. There is a gap just to his left, she could make it if she's fast enough. She moves just a fraction.  Negan is fast, hand reaching for her hair, she can’t jerk away in time. So he grabs a fist full of her waves using it to haul her upwards. 

“I’m  gonna have to teach you to  be good .” 

Negan is all rage and fire when he speaks. He yanks her arm, almost taking it out of socket. Pandora screams, tries to get her footing to relieve the pressure. It’s no use, he moves faster than she can. He drags her out the bedroom, kicking the door open.  

“Thought you were smarter Princess I  really fucking   did.” 

He pulls her down the hall, never giving her long enough to get her footing. They turn and turn and turn go down steps, but never up. When they stop, it’s dark. There is no natural light here, only the fake glow of bulbs in the ceiling.  

Her brain trips over itself, this seems like a good idea her grand rebellion. Now she's terrified. Negan stops walking, jerks her arm pulling her upright beside him. 

“Open the fucking door.” Negan roars in front of her Pandora watches the man take the keys from his belt and open the door. 

When he does her heart, stops beating. The door opens to a small dark room the scent inside turns her stomach. She tries to look away but Negan threads his hands in her hair forcing her to turn. Daryl isn’t dressed, he huddles naked in the back. He hides his face against the incoming light from the hallway motions jerky and sharp. 

“Daryl! Wanted to give you a chance to see the Princess here, before she goes off to learn how to  be good .” By the time he had finished the sentence his lips were right next to her ear making her shiver. “Strong willed as you are Daryl. I wonder who breaks first.” 

She reaches for him trying desperate to touch him. He only stares at her, silent. He had asked her to do one thing and she couldn’t. Daryl’s image swims in her tear filled vision. Fingers hooked into claws she pulls away from Negan, feeling little strands of hair come free from her scape. It doesn’t matter, doesn’t even hurt only makes her pull harder. 

“Now, now none of that.” The word’s  are growled out, and he yanks her again, hard. 

In her state it throws her off balance, leaving her tripping over her own feet. 

She doesn't go easy doesn’t  know she had it in her anyone. Instead she bucks and kicks throwing her weight to the side. Negan swears and shakes her hard rattling her teeth in her skull. She’s being dragged down the hall now the door Daryl was behind getting slammed shut. The sound of the lock clicking into place bounces off the walls, echoing around her.  

“No!” She’s now trying to crawl at Negan.  Losing him a second time even if she had only seen him for a second is too much. Pandora screams and cries begs to see him again, begs to have one more moment. While she rages Negan ignores her.

She is present enough to  know they have stopped. Her frame shakes as she tiltes her head up to look at Negan, he grins down at her his smile all teeth. 

“Night, night Princess.” Negan’s tone is sing  song , then he tosses her into the darkness in front of her. The force he throws her sends her hurling into the wall, then everything falls into darkness. 

When she wakes everything is stiff. For a second there is that moment when she forgets where she is. For a blissful moment, she thinks she fell asleep on the guard tower again. She’s done that before, spent the night out under the stars waiting for Daryl. It’s so real she can almost feel it, the breeze tickling her skin, the cool air giving her goosebumps.  But when she opens her eyes and sees only darkness she remembers. 

She can’t quite remember how she got here. Chucks of time are missing in her head. She remembers Negan dragging her from her room. Remembers seeing Daryl huddled in the darkness and being dragged away before she too is in darkness.

Her head pounds and pulling herself up is hard. The pressure behind her eyes is unrelenting. All around her is darkness, so she blinks wondering maybe if she forgot to open her eyes. They are open though but where ever she is there is no light. Hand lifting she touches her nose, wiggles her fingers in front of her open eyes. Nothing happens,  then she panics.  

It’s fast it swallows her whole sending her spinning into a cold sweat. Pandora bangs on the walls screams until her voice dies in her chest. Her panic is only meet with more silence. The small space fills with the sound of her own voice, it bounces off the walls echoing back in the ears. That is enough  to almost drive her mad  then , a space filled with nothing but her own panicking voice. 

There’s no way to keep track of time, no sense of anything but complete darkness. Her stomach tightens  painfully  begging for food, something she can’t provide. Somewhere in her mind she can recognize that something is wrong, her sideburns. Sweat collects on her brow, but it’s cold in the little dark room. In the darkness, her fingers slipped under her shirt touching the wound in her side only to come away wet. 

The door is open twice and each time a new plate of food place down before it  is closed . They must fear her must fear her launching herself at them the second they open the door. She doesn’t have it in her though everything hurts in her skin burns with a fire she has no way to cool. She eats though the moment the door  is closed she reaches out and grabs the plate scooping them bread off and shoveling and down emptying the contents of the water bottle before placing it back to the door. 

Pandora tries to count the time between  when someone comes to open the door , but she slips away into sleep. Dreams of Negan and his bat, being in the line up again. In her dreams all her nightmares blend into one. Negan’s men are the wolves, tearing at her clothes hands on her body as Negan beats her friends to death. She wakes screaming, nails shedding her skin to red ruin. 

When she wakes again, it’s still dark and she things about Negan, about what he wants her to learn down here, to  be good . She could do it. She would do what she’s told and listen the second she gets let out of this room. He would see. The door opens two more times, and she’s coherent enough again to reach for the plate. The thought of putting anything in her mouth makes her gag, so she leaves it full. 

Although sometimes later she's not sure how much time  passed, she finds herself doubled over into the corner of her small dark room vomiting up her insides. That marks her descent into true madness. If the door opens more times or more food  is delivered, she doesn’t notice because she can’t tell the difference between being awake and her dreams. Peaceful dreaming is something she knows nothing about in the darkness whether her eyes are open or closed nightmares plague her. 

The wolves come for her in the darkness hands and mouth made of shadows curling around her ankles and moving their way up her body. Negan comes for her to swinging that bat and his face fingers tangled in her hair and dragging her up and  then down forcing her to look at Daryl. Daryl, she dreams about him too but he’s back in the lineup his head a ruined mess, and Negan is waving a bloody bat in her face. Pandora does nothing but cry continue to vomit curled in the corner of the room. Her skin burns when she touches it, but she  is covered in goosebumps shaking from the cold. The wound on her side continues to leak sticky liquid, and she’s almost positive she will die in this room. 

There is no sense of time, only darkness always  just the darkness.  Dreaming and waking are no different here she can’t even tell when she is awake. Whether she is awake or asleep, the nightmares haunt her every moment.  It ’s a cycle the wolves rape her in the darkness, Negan kills everyone she loves before her eyes.  It ’s never ending and somewhere in her head something  is broken . 

Negan comes back to her sometimes, whispering telling her to  be good , that good girls get good things.  She can be a good girl, she can  be so good .  She whispers it to herself sometimes, whispers she’s good. Pandora will do anything to get out of the darkness.

Voices float around her, fingers brush the burning flesh of her forehead. There is light streaming into her dark cage it stings her eyes forcing her to hold them shut. She can hear men talking somewhere around her. But she can’t quite make out the words. It’s the wolves, she thinks, it must be them finding her here in her nightmares. 

“Please, please.” She finds her voice however small and horse. It’s not the wolves coming for her, the world swims into focus and she sees Dwight.  “I’ll  be good , please.” 

The light is too bright after so long in the dark, her eyes don't adjust don’t make out anything but white light. She has to close them, it’s all too much again. As she slips away again, she can hear shouted curses following her into the dark.

“You fuck heads didn’t notice!” Negan roars rage boiling. “She’s burning up, not eating. Fuck!” 

The girl is limp again in Dwight’s arms. She’s a mess, thin and sick looking. Her shirt plastered to her side wound oozing fluid. It been five days, she’s only been in there for five fucking days. 

Negan stands over Dwight before leans down taking her limp form in his arms. He covers the ground to medical in long angry strides. Heads will roll for this shit, for letting his  pretty  new guest get like this. He should have checked on her should have gone down there his fucking self and looked. 

He kicks the door open setting inside and turning his head. Dr Carson stands form his desk brows knitted. There is a room to the side Negan carries her inside laying her down gently . His fingers brush her hair from her eyes, under his fingers her skin is fire. 

“Carson!” He screams. “Get your fucking ass in here.” 

Dr. Carson steps in pulling the curtain closed behind him. 

Negan turns on the Doctor, “If she dies you die.” 

Then he went to find out who had let this go on under their noses. 

In her head Pandora is always running, her dreams never give her a moment to rest. She runs faster than she has done before. The trees around her hide the whispering figures. In the darkness the wolves howl, laughing as they come for her. 

Whistling comes from the tress Pandora stumbles tripping on the ground falling into an open clearing. The darkness is gone then chased away by bright artificial lights. 

“Princess! I found you!” Negan stands here in the middle of the clearing arms outstretched wide. In his left hand he holds the bat, the end touches the floor. She can't help but notice his fingers trace the flattened top of his weapon of choice.

Pandora falls to her knees now sobbing, he is the light in her darkness. Negan will save her that's why he does he saves people. If she lets him, he will save her. She remembers the room the four walls encased in darkness, the never-ending loop of nightmares. 

“Please,” She begs leaning down forehead pressed to the dirt floor. “I’ll  be good , don’t let them get me.” 

Negan is in front of her  then grinning, “Oh Princess I  know you will  be good now.” 

The darkness comes  then moving like it’s a creature itself. It slithers and curls around Negan. He doesn’t notice only kneels down fingers under her chin tilting her head up. 

“You’re gonna be so good.”

Then he’s gone swallowed into the darkness.

Pandora doesn’t wake right away, she floats somewhere in the nothingness of her mind. Half awake and half asleep she hears them and knows they are talking about her. 

“The infection is clearing and her fever broke last night.” 

“ Finally , some good fucking news. Have her moved to her new room.” 

“Yes, Negan.” 

When she comes to again her eyes open right away, the world around her lit. A soft warm yellow light, from a source she can’t see. A sob escapes her lips, she squeezes her eyes shut tight as she says a silent prayer. Thanking whoever was listening for letting her out of the darkness. She thanks Negan too, in the darkness he came for her, he saved her. 

Pandora stays like that for a moment eyes shut tight tears staining her cheeks. For long seconds. Her chest is light the pressure of the darkness lifted, allowing her to breathe deeply again. In the light everything makes sense, in the light she could tell the difference between being awake and being asleep. She was almost sure she had spent the entire time in a fevered state of dreaming. Somewhere in between being awake and asleep that's where she was tortured. 

There are the sounds outside of her bedroom, with her eyes shut they are crisp and clear. Footsteps, she thinks to herself. A tapping too, a small faint tick,  tick, tick from somewhere outside this room. There is a moment of irrational panic, in which she pictures being dragged back into the darkness. She wonders if it’s Negan, if he  has come to ask her again if she knows how to  be good . This time she knows she answers, she knows. She can  be good . 

In her dreams Daryl had been with her, telling her in a hushed voice that to live she had to do whatever she needed to do to stay alive. She would listen because he was right, he was always right. She was so sure she could fight her way out, but some things were worse than death, that box had been worse than death. 

The footsteps passed by her again, and nothing happened. Still laying in the bed she runs her hands over her face, tangles her fingers in her hair and pulls a bit too hard. 

‘Just to be sure.’  She tells herself ‘Just to be sure ’

It’s hard to pull herself up from the bed, her body stiff from being still for too long. The bed she finds herself it, is nothing short of amazing. Even half asleep and terrified she can appreciate how comfortable she is. The sheets are plush, thick warm jersey material. The comforter is heavy on top of her legs keeping her grounded. 

Her fingers tremble as she brushes the clean shirt she’s wearing lifting it, just enough to see her skin under it. A patch of skin on her side is covered in a thick white bandage. Her fingers run over it, pushing down until she feels the resistance of her own skin . The pain is a quick flash that has her dropping her fingers.  It hadn’t looks like that before, she used to  be able to  see the stitches. 

Bits of conversation floated back to her, something about an infection, a fever. It makes sense she thinks, she remembers being hot and cold at the same time. There is a flash of someone carrying her, shouting and swearing, Negan’s voice demanding to  know who let this happen. She remembers hearing herself pleading with him telling him she could  be good , th en nothing. 

Finally  she opens her eyes, letting the room come into focus in her vision. The room she’s in is different this time, different from the one she first woke up in. Pandora has lost count of how many times she has woken up somewhere different. 

This room is bigger, the walls  are painted a bright white, with a deep blue wall behind the bed. The bed was bigger than the last one too, this was a queen almost as nice as the one she slept on back home. The bed she sat in  was pushed against the wall, on the wall opposite her there was a large steel door. She had been here long enough to  know it lead to the outside. To the right of the door was a small kitchenette, nothing more than a small L shape of counters. But it had a small plug in stove top, and a sink. There was a small round table was well, with only two chairs.  Just past the table there is another door, washroom she assumes but can’t be sure until she can get up and check. Past that on the same wall as the bed is a window, with a plush chair and a bookshelf  tucked in the corner of the room. 

Pandora can’t help but wonder if this is a trick, if this was another game to break her.  Going from the darkness to this it was too good to be true. 

A knock on the door makes her blink again and pulls she blankets up over her chest. She doesn’t answer, not sure what the new rules are if she has the power to decide who comes in and who doesn’t. So instead she is silent eyes trained to the door. It unlocks, swings open to reveal a brown-haired woman standing in front of another man. 

The women look familiar, but the man standing behind her he is unknown. 

“You can go now.” The women tell the man over her shoulder. In one hand, she holds a tray of food, she uses her free hand to shut the door in his face. 

“It’s good to see you awake.” 

Pandora isn’t sure what the say, she opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. In her head, she tries to sort through the bits of memories she has, tries to find out where she knows these women from. 

The women step into the room she moves to the small kitchen and produces a bed tray from inside one of the cupboard. She sets it up on the bed and places the food on it. Pandora watches as she pulls up a chair from the kitchen table bringing it to the side of her bed. Close enough  that  they could talk, but far enough so that Pandora is still at ease. Or as much as she could be. 

“You should eat,” The brown-haired women gestured to the plate and the water sitting on the bed. 

It looks like something she would get in a hotel, scrambled eggs, bread, dried meat and an apple. Pandora reaches for the water first uncapping in and emptying it in seconds. She moves to the food  then , chewing will keep her from having to talk. 

“You don’t remember me do you?” 

An apple half way in her mouth Pandora shakes her head eyes down, embarrassed at the gap in her memory. 

“I’m Sherry. I’m one of Negan’s wives. We meet before when you were in medical. And before that...” Sherry doesn’t finish. 

Pandora remembers now, remembers Sherry helping her from the chair taking her behind the curtain and getting her dressed. Anything after that is a blur or images, none of them making sense out of order. There is something else, a memory somewhere in her head that is demanding her attention. A place where she had seen Sherry before this, it doesn’t come to her now though. 

When the plate  is finished Pandora opens her mouth trying to find her voice, “You helped me, I remember that.”

Sherry’s tight lips form a small smile, “That’s right.” 

They fall back into silence  then ; Pandora eyes wonder the room again, taking everything in. She still isn’t sure that is she awake, she could  be imagining Sherry too.  This whole thing could be nothing more than ber broken mind trying to help her forget. 

“This is your new room” Sherry tries to smile, but her eyes dart to the door for a second.  Then her voice drops in pitch to almost a whisper. “Pandora there is always something worse ok? He will put you back in the box if he needs too.” 

 

The box that’s what they call her, her little ninth circle of hell. The box. A small dark place where she left some of herself. She draws her knees slowly to her chest, pulling her arms tightly around them. She presses herself together like that, there is pressure on her stitches. It’s almost sweet the pain, it clears her head.

“I don’t need that,” She whispers voice shaking. “I  know how to  be good .” 

Sherry looks at her now one corner of her lip turning up in a smile. The woman reaches out, touching her hand. The touch is light fluttering, if Pandora wasn’t looking she wouldn’t have felt it “That’s good, it’s not that bad here.” 

Pandora chokes back the tears that swim in her eyes pulling her hand away. Every breath she takes hurts, like a million tiny shards of glass.  It takes a few seconds for her collect herself enough to speak. 

“Can you tell me—” 

Her words are cut short by the door swinging open with a bang. Negan stands in the opening; Pandora’s eyes go right for the bat in his hand. It sends her heart tripping over itself. But he lays it down against the wall before shutting the door behind him. 

“Princess your awake that  is so good ,  just in time for the show.” 

Sherry stands putting herself in front of Negan blocking him from her line of sight. 

“She knows Negan, she’s terrified already.” 

“I don’t give a shit Sherry, she doesn’t  know until I see it. Get the fuck out.” 

Sherry looks back at Pandora once,  then she’s hurrying past her door shutting it behind her. 

Negan strides forward taking the chair that Sherry had been in a moment ago. 

“Now listen Pandora, things have been a little rough between us. This isn't how I like to do things ” He lifts his hand rubbing the small beard he had growing. “I think you  know what I want you to do, but I  gotta be sure ok?” 

Negan stands again holding his hand out for her. She hasn’t stood in days and doesn’t even  know if she can manage it. 

But she tries because that is what he is asking her, she must do what he asked if she wants to  be good . Her shaking fingers fling the blankets off, leaving her lower half bare. She isn't wearing shoes, only a thick pair of socks. She is wearing pants too, a loose fitting pair of sweatpants.

“I can  be good now.” Pandora whispers she doesn’t take his hand. Instead she pushes herself off the bed, he steps aside a hand on her elbow to keep her standing. 

“And that’s that I want to hear, but I need to show you what happens when you’re not good.” 

The blood in her veins freezes  then , he tugs her to get her moving but she can’t. Her head fills with images of the box, of nothing but never-ending darkness. 

“Please,” She looks up at him trying to pull her arm away. “I can’t go back in there I  was good , like you wanted.”

Pandora is close to hysterics, eyes wide tears streaming down her cheeks. She digs her heels into the ground tried to stop the motion of movement. He saved her from there, he can’t take her back. She did everything she was told, she was nice to Sherry she ate. 

Negan stops than its slow, he looks down at her. 

“Don’t you worry Princess Pandora, no box for you, I have something else in mind.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that did you think? I struggled a lot with this chapter. With the direction I decided to take Pandora in. Humans are messy, recovery is messy, and sometimes things don't go as planned. Let me know what you think! Comments fuel my fire.


	36. Good Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back loves. All ready with a new chapter! I'm currently writing chapter 43 so there is much more to come.

Good

 

Everywhere he takes her, people drop to their knees. She eyes them from her under the curtain of her hair, none of them glance up. All down on one knee their eyes fixed to the floor, like he is a king, god among men. She tries to catch their faces, but they are all tilted downwards no one dares meet her gaze. No one notices her either, she assumed she may be more of a spectacle. The crazy screaming former gold medal winner. They don’t seem to care though, maybe they don’t even see her with how fast they drop to their knees. 

The surrounding walls are a slate grey color. Light is scarce, and the sun struggles to light the darkened halls through windows. This place has the appearance of a factory, with all the darkened halls and steel. 

He takes her down a flight of steps. She tries to map out where they are going but they move too fast, and Pandora is still on the edge of hysteria unable to full process where they are going. 

She doesn’t ask where they are going instead spends all the energy she has trying to control her shaking. The tremors run deep shaking her bones. The tears have stops, but Pandora struggles to calm her breathing. Negan said he wouldn’t hurt her, she doesn’t believe him. Fear of the dark room keeps her silent beside him. 

Only when she is sure they have stopped moving does she take the chance to look up. They stand in front of a large steel door. They are on the ground level now, walls lined with bright windows. The rays are bright and warm, they cut through through the painted windows to kiss her cold skin. The man standing in front of it turns the lock with one of the many keys on his ring. They step through the opening. 

The first thing she feels is the sun on her face, a breath escaped her, but it sounds more like a sob. Her heads moves of its own vilitional, face tilted to the sky drinking in its rays. She can tell the season, spring, or summer perhaps. The air smells fresh the sun seems like at any moment it could burn brighter. It’s almost too good to be true. Almost enough to make her forgot why she is being brought out here. 

“Now Princess you didn’t cause this remember,” Negan voice cuts through her perfect moment in the sun. “But I need you to see it if you ever think of pulling a stunt like the last one.” 

He holds her tight against him as they hide in a door alcove. It makes little sense, they are hiding from nothing. The parking lot as she calls it is empty. In front of them there are two cars, a truck, and rows of motorcycles. It seems like it’s only the two of them standing there, with her holding her breath. Then it isn’t, from the far side a door opens. 

Pandora sees him, and there is a second where her brain stops and starts struggles to make sense of the scene in front of her. Time seem to slow down as she watches Daryl rush from the door, his movements wild, frantic. He runs for the bikes looking them over.  Negan’s hand presses against her mouth keeping her quiet. She can’t even make a sound when she watches all the men come out of hiding to meet him. Negan whistled and pulled her forward with him, he dropped his hand from her mouth and puts them around her waist instead. The shock zips through her, shutting down whatever thoughts she might be having. She can do nothing but move with him, allow Negan to pull her along.  

He stops her in front of Daryl who stands frozen, eyes gazing up at her. Pandora is crying now, but she isn’t making a sound tears streaming down her cheeks. She blinks trying her clear her vision. Her free hand clasps herself over her mouth, dread curls in her gut. Dread grows a creature threatening to send the food she had just eaten spilling from her mouth to make room for itself. 

“Are we pissing our pants  yet ?”  Negan laughs at his own  joke ,  Lucille resting on his  shoulder . “Who are you?” He  asks the  man behind him  pointing with  Lucille . 

“ Negan .” 

“Who are you?” He points again to someone else. She isn’t fast enough to follow where he swings the bat, a whoos displaced air to her left cheek.  

“ Negan .” 

“Who are you?” His voice is right in her ear finger dragging across her chin. She shivers against him and almost loses herself in the panic. She remembers the little black room, and the darkness she never wants to go back too. She forces her eyes open not realizing she had snapped them shut. Daryl is still staring at her face blank, but he stares at her. And she doesn’t need words to speak to him, she can see everything he means to tell her. 

‘I love you,’ his eyes say. ‘It’s ok.’   

“Negan.” She whispers it, trying to breathe through the shattering in her chest. 

“You see that? I am everywhere.” Negan puts his arm around her hip again, pressing her body closer to him. “And that was your shot to prove to me to that the fundamental fact was sinking in and you failed. Which sucks because your life was about to get so much cooler. Am I right?”

“Damn  right .” Fat Joey answers with  a shake of his  head . 

Negan leans away from her putting his bat near Daryl’s feet. “Now Dwight gave you some options. I don’t think you get it yet, so I’m gonna break it down for you. One you wind up on the spike and you work for me as a dead man. Two you get out of your cell you work for point you going to wish you were dead. Or Three you work for me, you get yourself a brand-new pair of shoes, and you live like a king or a queen.” He glances at her for a second reaches up to touch her cheek delicitaly. “The choice is pretty obvious, there is no door number four. This is it, this is the only way.” 

Her heart in her chest is the only sound, and Pandora wants to speak wants to tell him she loves him. But her mouth is to dry and her tongue is too thick. “Screw it.” Negan pulls his arm back getting ready to swing Lucille. Daryl doesn’t move when he swings, she lunges forward only to have someone pulled her back by her top. She sobs fingers hooked and reaching for him. 

“Wow, you don’t scare easy. I love that. But Lucille well kinda pisses her off, she finds it disrespectful. Lucky for you she’s not feeling too thirsty today. But I am, so I’m gonna go get me a drink with the Princess.” Negan pulls her by the elbow now, turning her away from him. 

Pandora struggles against him, but Negan only grips her tighter. He’s drifting, and she hears flesh hitting flesh behind her. The sounds vibrates through her, eching in her bones. Straining she tries to see him, twisting her neck around to catch even the smallest glimpse. He’s hidden in the mass of bodies around him. 

“Please!” her head turns back to Negan a free hand reaching for his arm. “that’s enough please.” 

Negan pulls her back inside the door shuts and locks behind them.

“Oh Princess it’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Negan looks down at her and smiles. “You were good though Princess gave me right answer. Who are you?” 

Bile rises in her throat, “Negan.” She chokes it back enough to answer. That’s what he wants to hear, that’s the answer of a good girl.

Part of her rages at how easily Negan broke her, but was she ever whole to begin with.

“That’s my girl.” Negan laughs. “I’ll send you back to your room Princess. Maybe I’ll come by later.” 

Negan’s touch is replaced by someone else, grip lighter than Negan’s. Pandora glances at her, lightly tan skin, tight coiled curls framing her face. Their eye contact doesn’t last long, the women is turning away. A hand between her shoulder blades directs her down the halls. The halls look the same, and she doesn’t care to remember the path back, it doesn’t matter. 

Alone in  her room the shock sets in. The sobs rise up like the tide, drowing her.  The sound of Daryl being beaten haunts her the most.  The sound of fists on flesh echoing through the  empty  space of her mind. She keeps her eyes shut tight, refusing to open them. 

Negan  doesn’t come back when the door to  her room opens  it’ s  Sherry .  There is a bolt of clarity in  her head in, a light brightening the darkness of her memory.  Sherry had been with  Dwight in the burnt forest.  Sherry took their weapons, stole Daryl’s bike. She had  been so focused on  Dwight after Denise  was gone that she hadn’t remembered  Sherry . 

Here  her head has been a mess, too messy to remember really. Too busy trying to keep moving forward to  think about looking back. 

“This is  your fault .”  Pandora mutters as  Sherry sets down her food on the small table.

The other women  doesn ’t turn, but  Pandora watches her body pull itself into a tight line. Silence blankets the room, pinpointed with their breathing. Pandora’s long deep breaths, and Sherry’s quite panicked ones. 

“This is all your fault, you started it in the woods that day. Everything else came from that.” Everything came after that. They found the Hilltop agreed to take a Saviours out. They wouldn’t have known Alexandria existed if Pandora and Daryl hadn’t met them in the burnt woods. “I went out looking for Dwight for you, that’s how they found us.” 

The memories of that night still haunted her, how she floated in and out of darkness coming up to find her friends dead.  Her face is warm in some spots skin wet, she can almost see the bit of brain running down  her face . 

“I didn’t  know , how could I  know you would end up here?” Sherry’s  voice cuts through  the memories threatening to take over. 

“ Get. out .” Rage makes her  voice tremble when she speaks.  

Sherry whips her head around to  Pandora , but  Pandora doesn’t  look up eyes fixed on her hands. 

“ Pandora I,  I want to help you,  I want to help him.” 

The roar that come from inside her chest is more animal than human. “Get out!” She screams it now room shaking with the sound. Tense seconds of silence pass then she can hear Sherry’s footsteps retreating from the room. She is so stupid for not remembering her, for allowing her into the room exchanging words like this wasn’t the women who ruined everything. It’s not all her fault thought on the best of days Pandora can seldom keep her thoughts straight. She didn’t remember her, Sherry all clean and pretty she almost isn’t the same person Pandora met in the woods. 

When she hears the door click shut the  rage fizzles out and turns into despair.  Pandora sobs curling back down under the blankets, she cries until she slips into darkness. 

The  sound of her own screaming is what wakes her up, a harsh shrill  sound .  Curled on her side  Pandora sobs , too panicked to cover her mouth. For a heartbeat she forgets where she is, she holds her breath and waits for Daryl to put his arms around her whisper she’s safe. But as the shadows in the room come into focus so does reality, and she faces the knowledge he isn’t here. Her heart breaks all over again. 

Losing him this time is different it hurts more, Pandora  thinks trying to pull her body tighter into itself.  Outside is still dark, small flickers of  light shine down on the ground  outside her window. The half  light cast long shadows in her room, allowing her to see only the outline of objects.

To the right of the bed  a lamp sits on the nightstand , she can only assume  it works why else would it be there.  It ’s more work than she imagined to uncurl herself. Her body protests any movement even the smallest ones. 

When she clicks on the light, it cast a dim glow around the room. Pandora is facing the window. Outside stars light the sky, the night clear, and cloud free. It almost painful how beautiful the world is in these moments it will be so much uglier in the daylight. Hauling herself from the bed, is hard too. Her feet hit the ground and she is almost certain her legs cannot bear her weight. She moves anyway, ease step she takes to the window easier.   

The chair placed there reminds her of the matching ones she had in her room. They are even pulled in front of the window, just like they had been at home. Below her window there are people moving around, fewer than she sees in the day. But these days someone always has to be awake, to keep watch, to keep everyone safe. Safe, it’s a funny word. Something she had such little experience with. She felt safe for a while behind the walls, with Daryl. He made her feel safe as safe as she could ever be. 

The growling of her stomach brings her out of her own head. She never touched the food Sherry brought her. Last time she didn’t eat she ended up in  the box . That gets her moving to the small kitchen. 

It ’s cold now, a mushy pile of veggies and rice. She eats  it though; frightened Negan  will come at that exact moment and see she hasn’t eaten anything. He would send her to  the box then, she was sure. Not eating wasn’t how she stayed a good girl. 

Pandora doesn’t imagine she will get anymore sleep, the sky is already lightening in the distance better just to be awake. She heads for the bathroom it was always her favorite place back home. 

This  bathroom is cold. Two gym style showers, nothing more than a concrete base and metal bars for a blue shower curtain to hang .  There is a chest of drawers inside though, and when she opens them she finds  everything she  might need . The top of the dresser is lined with tightly rolled  towels , it reminds her of hotel. Filled with  everything one  might need .  Running her fingers over the soft  towels she wonders why anyone would even bother. Negan didn’t seem  like someone to care if she  was comfortable . He was using her, keeping her alive to keep Rick in control. But the room is nice and that makes her wonder.  

Undressed she leaves her clothes in a puddle on the floor, than turns the water on. Pandora’s once beautiful body is . The shower is nothing like the one she had. The water doesn’t get warm. It doesn’t matter though, she can’t relax here. Instead she finishes as fast as she can. Washing layers of grim from her hair and skin. 

The  clothes she finds in the room are terrible. The closet  is filled with dresses,  shirts ,  and skin -tight leggings.  It takes forever to find enough pieces of clothing to cover herself. Pandora ends up with a cropped T- shirt under a longer spaghetti strapped  shirt s, both  shirts are  black .  It leaves her arms barer than she likes, showing off the stitches and the muscle clinging to bone. The pants are just as hard.  She finds a  black pair of tights to slip under a dark red  shirt . Despite the amount of  clothes she is wear, she  feels exposed. 

She does another pass of the closet. More careful this time, separating each piece to  clothes to  look at them. Nothing will be better, whatever she was able to get is as good as it gets.  

She finds herself back in the high-backed chair watching the sun come up over the sky. It’s almost peaceful, she can almost forget where she is. Almost. It’s odd here, Negan is confusing. She remembers hearing his rage when he finds her in the box.  Remembers soft whispered words somewhere in her head. Pandora dozes off to sleep again in the chair only to wake up to the door opening. 

“Good morning Princess.” Negan’s voice is booming and cheerful. It fills all the spaces where there used to be silence. 

Her eyes snap open, frame going stiff curled in the chair. She turns her head watching him enter, doing a sweep of the room. The room is clean, the plate she had used in the small sink, not washed but away. Pandora wants to be sure everything is perfect, no reason for her to go back in the box. He always triggers thoughts of the box, the sound of his voice sends her back to the moment when he tossed her in the darkness.

“Up and ready I like that.” Negan comes around  her chair , two plates of  food balanced in each hand. “Come here let’s eat.”

Fear makes her stall only for a second, but that same  fear had her moving towards him. He sits at the small table, she joins him pushing  her chair as far away as she can. 

The  food looks  good breakfast sandwiches. She doesn’t wait for him to say anything just eats. That’s what you do if you want  to be good , and she wanted  to be good . In her chest her heart beats pounds, banging incessantly against her rib cage. He must be able to hear  it because Negan is staring at her as she wraps shaking fingers around the sandwich. 

He doesn’t speak until they are half way through the meal. Pandora is thankful using the time to calm herself down. She watches him though through heavy strains of hair she keeps an eye on him. He’s too dangerous not to watch, and she couldn’t  look away  even if she wanted to. 

Negan sighs leaning back he crosses his arms over his chest and stares. “It occurred to me Princess you live under my room eat my food, and I know almost nothing about you. I don’t even know how you got so fucking crazy.” He laughs at the last part, like her mental state is nothing but the punch line of a joke. “Now I know you and Dwighte boy go way back, back before he understood the way of the new world. He said you were already crazy then, and already with our boy Daryl. So tell me how did you meet him?” 

The  question shocks her  back into the present  moment . She didn’t  think he would care why does anything about her matter if he is only waiting for the  moment to kill her. She cocks her head to the side to stare at him. He stares  back eyes darkening the longer she is silent for. 

“I  think I asked you a  question Princess.” 

A lump rises in her throat almost choking her. An old water bottle sits to her right, but she drinks forcing the lump down. Negan frightens her, not just the threat of the box but everything about him puts her on edge. There is a touch of madness to him as well, it comes in flashes. a dim burning light in his eyes that she can sometimes feel in herself.

Maybe that is the connection between them, she wonders absently. They both have the same deep madness that struggles to surface sometimes.  Sometimes her madness is her greatest weapon, how many times had it truly saved her? She lost count. She thinks Negan might feel the same about his, he must count madness as his strength. 

 Pandora knows the story of how Daryl meet her. Daryl had told her the story many times, it was part of the facts she use to calm herself down. But it only a story she remembers little from the first few days she spent in Alexandria. Everything from the first few days is nothing but jumbled memories, sounds and sights she can’t place. 

“Daryl found me, in the woods.” Daryl found her tied to a tree begging sobbing as one of them raped her. He killed the man, cut her loose and brought her back with him. “He saved me.” She whispers it memories flooding up inside her like water. Her hand tightened into a fist, and the pain of her nails biting into flesh keeps her grounded. 

“From those dead fuckers?” 

When Pandora looks up Negan is watching her general interest playing on  his face . Again, she isn’t sure what to make of him. Unease rolls in her gut at the sight of  his face .  There is a second or two of lag in her response time as she pieces together his question. He  thinks Daryl saved her from  the dead .  It ’s funny sort of, she fears  the dead yes, but  the living they were the real monsters. 

“No, he saved me from the living.” Something changes then a burning urge to tell him, to make Negan understand. Her eyes find her hands instead of his face, she twists her finger around each other nails occasionally scraping skin. “They called themselves the wolves, they killed everyone I loved, then they took me and all the other pretty girls. They always liked them pretty.” 

Pandora remembers the  girls with her, none of them lasted long. They  liked the  fight ,  liked to have to use force to take what they wanted,  broken girls didn’t  fight .  Broken girls got left tied to trees as food for the dead. Silence fills the room she only notices now after  it has already stretched into minutes.  Her head jerks up  sharply  fearing she gotten lost in  her head . Negan is still there  though , studying her. She can’t help but notice his hands curling and uncurling against his legs.  

“I  kill men like that Princess.” His tone is dark,  it has an edge that’s different from before. 

Pandora  believes him  though ,  believes he would  kill anyone who did that or tried to. She finds an odd comfort in this new knowledge, to know he understands. “I do too.” She whispers watching him. Another moment passes where neither of them move, then he nods once before turning to fish something from in  his pocket . 

“Brought you these, doc says you  gonna need em.” From  his pocket he pulls out a small zip-lock  bag . Inside is a round white pill, the other half a circle. 

She knows what they are and doesn’t ask questions just takes the little bag and empties the pills. There is still water in the bottle, it helps them go down. Her heart still pounds though, he wouldn’t drug her for nothing. Wouldn’t waste these if she was staying in this room.

“We are going out today Princess. I’ve been so damn busy these days I’m late visiting your  little settlement  there .”  Negan is standing now, Pandora’s eyes follow him. “Let’s go pay Rick a visit shall we?” 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So?? What did you think? I loved the turmoil of this chapter. I loved seeing the effect of a different form of trauma, and her struggle with losing herself. Tell me what you think! I love comments.


	37. Behave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry! I cannot tell you how insane my life has been lately. But I'm here back with a new chapter for all you lovely people. To tell you all the truth I have no idea where this is going, I just write and see where it takes me. I also no longer have a beta reader, I try my best to edit but it isn't always perfect.

“These upper levels are for all the higher ups.” Negan makes a sweeping motion with his hand. “My room, my wives rooms a few of my good men, and you.” 

Outside her door to the right is a hallway of different doors, the hall is long leading to a set of stairs to somewhere she doesn’t know. Down she assumes, maybe even outside. To the left two more doors sit then a railing that looks down to the other levels. 

The warm air moves past her, circulated by the fans she catches sight of over her head. She hears them too a low humming sound in the background. It’s loud below them, sounds bouncing off the walls echoing around her. 

“This is the marketplace.” Negan leans on the railing. Pandora can’t help but stare at him, at the attention he commands without even trying. His eyes move swift over the people under him, she can almost see the wheels in his head turning. Then he shifts toward her the distance between them grating on the edges of her nerves. He’s so close, always so close. It’s hard to think when he does that, that's why he does it. 

Her eyes snap from his face after a moment, turning to follow his gaze instead. People are mulling about below them going about their lives. They know he is standing above them, but no one so much as glances in his direction. The whole place runs with an invisible order, everyone moves around knowing where they need to be. That brings a sense of calm to her, the calm inner workings of their machine. This place seems to run like a well-oiled machine. 

“Other people sleep on the other side,” he waves his hand towards the people below them in a dismissive gesture. “Few people have a room nice as yours Princess remember that.” 

Pandora will remember, she knows what her other option is. Somewhere down the stairs there is a dark room, where all her nightmares live in the darkness, and everything she does is to make sure she doesn’t go back. 

The tour is short like Negan said it would be. He waves his hand in a few directions and gives her vague explanations about where things are. He breezes over the exits, and other things. Her brain struggles to understand what he has left out, there are things she knows he isn’t saying but she can’t quite lock onto them. He has missed things, doors he didn’t talk about, hallways he ignored. 

Negan is still talking as they walk together, his hand is holding her elbow grip light. She’s not listening though she watches the people moving past her. Some of them glance at her and the look in their eyes makes her want to shrink smaller. Most people do not even give her a single glance they keep their heads down breezing past her.  

Someone calls Negan from the right and he drops her elbow before turning away. Negan is deep in conversation leaving her forgotten.  She comes to a stop in the middle of a pathway she titles her head up to the sky catching the warm say’s of sun. A chill found her skin the shade, here the sun can chase it away. 

The earth has no regard for the horrors of the new world. It moves on passing from day to night season to season. It’s a wonder, the earth is relieved she is sure. Less stress fewer humans, the ability to heal from the long standing damage done by humans. Mother Nature may not even miss them, the humans that are already gone. 

People come and go around her shifting to the side to pass her without getting to close. Pandora wonders what they know about her. Do they know what he did to her people that night in the woods, how he bent their community into submission. Although she got the sense that Negan bringing people back with him was commonplace. 

A sound catches her attention as she stands, mooing. Turning to the left she moves further away from him following the new sound. Enclosed in a small fenced in area there are a few cows. Huge creatures and she can’t help but be shocked by them. Pandora never gave a thought to farm animals, just assumed they were all eaten by the dead. 

The beast ambles up to her chewing a strand of grass hanging from its mouth. Hand stretched out she touches its head just a whisper of a touch, the big black and white beauty doesn’t seem to notice her at all. There is something so surreal about it, it’s not normal. Does it even now the world is different now? It goes on with its life, just like always no idea anything around them is different. 

“Pan?” 

She knows the sound of his voice anywhere, and inside something in her chest is broken. She turns with caution because this might be a trick of the drugs. Not that she hadn’t hallucinations before, she has. When Pandora has her back to the cow Daryl is standing there plain as day. It makes little sense to see him here outside, to have him allowed to be close to her. But it doesn’t matter, and she doesn’t have the energy to wonder.

“Daryl.” She breathes the word as she closes the gap between them. Daryl doesn’t miss a beat arms outstretched to hold her. Pandora sinks into him a small broken sob escaping her lips. 

He holds her tighter, she can almost feel her bones grinding together. It doesn’t matter though this is the best she has felt in days. Her mind is hazy, but it doesn’t matter because he’s holding her. 

“I love you.” Pandora whispers lips pressed to his neck. 

“Ah love you too. Ya did it Pandora, yah do what he says.” 

She doesn’t know what to say to that. He sees it then or heard it maybe Dwight told him what happened. Maybe Daryl knows now she is a good girl, a good little pet. 

“I can’t go back in the dark Daryl.” 

“No, yah stay out of there it’s ok. I know.” 

Daryl knows, he knows the ins and out of the process of her getting better. That confirmation that ok to do whatever she needs to do to make it through this, eases the knot tied tight in her gut. 

“Oh no no no.” It’s Negan’s voice booming behind her.

There isn’t even a moment for her to process him behind her. But her body is moving already racing to the fear he induces inside her. Pandora shoots out of Daryl’s arms so fast she is stumbling backwards tripping over her own feet on the uneven ground. Negan has her his grip warm and solid on her upper arms keeping her standing. Turning her head to the side she is meet with Negan’s grin. He isn’t angry or if he is there is no sign on it on his face, instead he is smiling at her looking genuinely amused.   

She is already crying tears staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry Negan, don’t hurt him.” The sun is too bright behind him blocking out his expression. Pandora can’t see him, can’t read his expression in the glaring light. Her fingers reach out gripping his jacket. “Please.” 

“Hey, hey, come on now Princess don’t do that.” Negan reaches out wrapping an arm around her shoulders pulling her into a tight hug.  

She can’t move can breath, her brain trips over herself at the contact. He’s solid though, frame warm heat radiating outwards into her. It reminds her of where she is, keeps her grounded keeps her from slipping too far into panic. Negan shouldn’t be able to help her like this. Her stomach twists at the sense of comfort she feels, guilt makes her sick. Her body doesn’t know the different though it relaxes in his hold, tension melting away.

“Now Daryl look at what you did to poor Pandora here, she’s been doing so good.” His hand rubs circles on her back. 

It makes her feel sick how her body responds to him. How does Negan do that, he knows her. He is too good at watching her. 

“Now Daryl my boy, this is a special lady you got here let me tell you. And you can see her whenever you want as soon as you answer my question.”

There are more voices around her she’s sure. But she can’t focus. It’s a slow downward descent into for that she knows is the drugs. They peek in her system taking her away from the present moment. 

Before she realizes, she’s moving. Or being moved. She isn’t telling her body anything but Negan is doing all the movement for her. Ushering her gently up into the back of a black truck. He is already inside the truck, sitting in the middles seat hands reaching out for her. 

“Here you go now Princess watch your step.” Negan warns her but doesn’t let her do it herself, instead he lifts her into the seat. Cold leather creaks under her hands when he sets her down.

Pandora falls asleep when they move letting the white noise of the cars and the vibration under her take her away. It’s easy to give into the drugs, to let them sweep her away like water. She used to rage against them, hates she needs them for anything usually, but now she would rather be high. 

When she wakes, it’s because they have stopped. Groggy Pandora blinks a few times rubbing the heels of her hands over her eyes. The homes of Alexandria come into focus around her. They are already inside the walls, a long line of vehicles lines up along the outer wall. She’s late to the party she realizes, Negan and his men are already out spreading out around the front gate. 

The sun is bright outside the truck, there isn’t a cloud in the shy to block its rays. It in sharp contrast to how cold she feels inside, to the cold of icy dread curling in her stomach. There is a bone-deep chill that comes from being this high, can’t have all the positive without some negative. 

Her side door opens too quick for her to catch herself, she comes spilling out of the truck. Negan is there though catching her, hands tight on her upper arms. 

“There we go Princess.” Its Negan’s voice, he shifts his hands from her arms one arm going around her waist. Somewhere she knows this should bother her. But it doesn’t, not now. “Rick was so kind to remind me I’m late in paying him a little visit. I wanted to show him why.” 

Blinking Pandora reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before swinging her gaze to Rick. He’s watching her, something twisted on his face. 

“Why was I so busy Princess?” Negan prompts her again. He wants her to answer. That takes a second too for her to find the words in her head. 

“I wasn’t being good.” She answers, words thick and heavy on her tongue. Even to her own ears her voice is hallow. “I had to learn to be good first.” 

The laughter from him is booming, it shakes her bones and echoes in the surrounding silence. Rick doesn’t speak only stares at her eyes wet with tears. There is a sound somewhere behind Rick and Pandora glances to find it. Her eyes meet Rosita standing stiff arms crossed. The other woman stares at Pandora open mouthed and horrified. She doesn't care about the other woman's feelings, the way she looks at her. Pandora is doing what she does best, living. She knows this is the only way she stays out of the darkness; the only way Daryl is safe.  

Negan moves forward, steps further into what used to be her home. There should be more feeling here, more rage at this monster being here. Pandora feels nothing, the long-held tension in her muscles is gone leaving a feather lightness. 

“Hot diggy dog this place is magnificent! An embarrassment of riches as they say. Yes, sir, I do believe you gonna have plenty to offer.” 

Negan walks forward not far a few steps or so. Pandora isn’t sure what to do next, so she turns to glance at the people behind her. Negan’s men stand still all at attention, all waiting in silence for an instruction. She is doing the same she thinks, standing and waiting. 

‘Because I’m his now, I’m his people.’

Rick walks past her then head to Daryl behind her. She knows Daryl is there, can feel him like a phantom limb.  

“Daryl, hey.” 

“No!” Negan turning back eyes sweeping her to glare at Rick. “Nope. He’s the help. You don’t talk to him, you don’t look at him, and I don’t make her chop anything off of him.” 

Pandora blinks struggling through the heavy feeling in her brain, she realizes he is pointing a finger at her. She would be the one to hurt Daryl if it came to that. There isn’t many of her people standing at the gate but Rosita is still there. Pandora can almost feel the burning rage coming from her small frame. 

Negan must feel something too because he turns and looks at her, “Same goes for everyone, same rules for the Princess.” There is a moment of silence and Pandora struggles to see Rosita’s face. “Right?”

Rosita doesn’t answer only turns and leaves arms still crossed tight over her chest. Pandora meets her eyes-only a for a second, that’s all she can stand under her rage. Rosita is mad at her, mad because she isn’t fighting, maybe. Mad because maybe Rosita thinks she should fight, but she doesn’t understand. 

The tangle of her thoughts is hard to escape, but when the sound of Arat shouting for the men to get moving she jumps. Around her there is movement Negan’s men move around her heading towards the houses. 

“They’re gonna search the houses a bit, keep the process movin’” Negan snaps his fingers and like the good girl she is Pandora steps up beside him. “So, you gonna show me around or not?” 

For a few hard seconds there is silence and Pandora wonders if he is talking to her. So, she pulls her eyes from the ground and looks at him. Negan isn’t looking at her though, he is looking at Rick over his shoulder. 

With his arm around her Negan turns, “Well?” 

She wants to scream at Rick to tell him he has to do what he’s told because if he doesn’t nothing good will happen. She doesn’t need to though maybe he gets the message from her gave because the moment his eyes meet hers he is moving stepping in front of Negan and walking towards the homes. 

Negan leads her with him, Pandora zones out not needing to listen to Rick explain her home. She stills think of it as home though, maybe till will always be home even if she never lives her again. Even if she never steps foot back in those gates without being at Negan’s side it still might feel like home. 

It all looks different though, the sun doesn’t shine as bright. Doesn’t quite reach all the corner and or sidewalks. It’s different now, or is she different it’s hard to tell. A breeze picks up around her wind whispering in her ear as it pulls her hair free from behind her ears. Reaching out she tucks the stray locks back behind her ears, shifting her shoulders under Negan’s arm now draped over them. 

“Where did you live Princess?” Negan is leaning in close to her, voice pitched low breath tickling her ear. It’s a stage whisper though, she knows Rick can still hear them. 

The questions takes a few moments for her to process, looking up she tried to get her bearings. Turning to the right she looks down the street and points. “Down there, the last townhouse on the end of the street, number 14. I lived with Daryl” 

Negan laughs, “What a good girl you are Pandora. Do you want anything” He tightens his hold on her shoulders just for a second. 

Her eyes narrow for a second then turns her head to look up at him. It sounds like a trick to offer this to her. Not that it matters, she wants nothing, doesn’t even want to think about these men in her house looking through her things. Her life here is different she likes to pretend it on hold and that she will be back here, and when she is everything will be the same. 

“No, I want it here when I get back.” She doesn’t think about how Negan will take her answer, she just know’s the answer. “I don’t want them inside my house.”

Laughter is her answer at first, and she jumps eyes widening in shock. He is an odd man twisted inside like only this world can do to someone. When he stops laughing, he turns his head to the right.

“Arat go make sure no one goes into the Princesses house, keep all her stuff there for later.” 

They walk down a few more homes, never going to the street where she lived. She’s glad of that not sure there are enough drugs in her veins to be so close to something so normal. She couldn’t do it, not knowing Daryl walking silent behind them now. 

“You see this? This is the kind of thing just tickles my balls. A little cooperation and everything is pleasant as punch.” His hand draws a circle on her shoulder, and under him she goes stiff. “You see, we really are reasonable people once you get to know us. Honest.” Negan’s stops at a cooler and flips it open and looks inside. 

He let his arm drop as she said, “Princess get me a beer.” 

Pandora doesn’t even think before she moves, only flips the lid open again and hands him a beer. Laughing he plucks it from her hand popping it open to drink. 

“I fucking love this place.” 

The surrounding streets are lined with people who live in Alexandria. She can feel their eyes on her as she moved. Judging the good little pet, she had become in such a short time. She had been broken so quickly, or maybe she was already a little broken to start. 

“Negan” A man comes running from the building. Sweat dripping from his cropped black hair. “Somethin’ you might wanna see.” 

He holds out a little video camera, Negan grins and grabs it flexing his fingers around it. 

“Well, well well. What do we have here? I got my fingers cross for a little freaky-deaky.” 

Pandora hears only the beginning of the video and she knows what it is. Knows they found the interview from when they all got there, and when she was getting better. She pictures herself in that couch, hardly getting and answers out before slipping into a panic. Sighing she walked away putting one, and a half homes between herself, Negan and the video recording.

As she walked, she sees Aaron and Eric on their porch. When she steps closer Aaron looks at her, he doesn’t look angry no it’s something else. Pity maybe, she can’t be sure but no anger. As she stares at him she believes what she sees in his face, believes he isn’t judging her. It's what she needs then, because Aaron knows he had seen her in the early days. When she was more drug than human. 

She finds herself drawn to them, lowering herself onto the steps of their porch. Michael the man Negan has watching her, follows keeping a safe distance between them. Is he scared of her, she has done several things since arriving to stay with Negan. Maybe it’s how unstable she is that worries him, maybe it’s her proneness to violence that has Michael gripping the gun.

“What happened to that sick girl?” Maggie, Pandora shuts her eyes against the image of Maggie screaming. “That seemed like a hell of a stressful night for her. They way she was carrying on she married to number two right?” 

Pandora tunes out the sound of his voice, trying instead to control the shaking. She doesn’t like where this is going, no doesn’t like it at all. Tightening her hands into fists she feels her nail biting into her skin. 

“Care to pay your respects.” 

No, not respects. The world around her disappeared into a void of darkness. Pandora can hear Maggie now screaming and crying for Glenn in the darkness. She dreamed that moment repeatedly behind closed lids. 

“Holy crap you are creepy as shit. Sneaking up on me wear that collar with that freaky ass smile.”

“My apologies I am Father Gabriel.”

“She didn’t make it?” 

No, no no. her head is roaring it blocks out wherever sounds come next. But Negan snaps for her and she is walking for a few more steps following the group until her body gives up. She falls to her knees, gasping for breath. There isn’t enough drugs left in her veins for this, for her to get up knees in soft dirt and clean her face stained with tears. 

Footsteps move away from her but she remains head presses to the soft ground.  The world is not there anymore, Pandora is gone tumbling down a hole too deep. 

  
“Get up.” A voice behind her snaps, the barrel of a gun knocks her in the shoulder. She can’t bring herself to move still thought, still numb from before. 

“Negan?!” It’s a call and a question. Hs scared because maybe she is losing her mind. Wouldn’t that be horrible for Negan to lose his new pet to madness like this. “Get up!” He jabbed her harder this time slipping up to find the spot where the arrow found its home inside her. 

Pain shoots like a lightening bolt inside her, it lights her brain for a moment clearing the darkness. Pandora becomes nothing but rage then. Launching herself from the ground she lunges at him, fingers hooked into claws aiming for his face. 

When she lands on him Michaels first reaction is to squeeze the trigger of the gun, sending a bullet into the ground at her feet. Pandora doesn’t flinch wrapping her legs around his middle clamping down. She goes for his eyes tearing a bloody ribbon down the side of his face. 

“What the fuck!” He growls trying to shove her off of him. It doesn't work she only holds on tighter, feeling his bones grind between her tights.

His hand shoots out wrapping itself around her throat. He doesn’t waste any time only tightens him hold cutting off her air. The edges of her vision fades for a second, but still she struggles. She drops her hands from his face than feeling the wet skin under her nails, she tries to claw at her hands now. Dragging her nails on his skin as he tightens his grip on her windpipe. 

 

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER.” Negan roars from somewhere behind her she can’t turn her head to see it. 

Michael flaunters just for a second and in that moment Pandora sends her open palm into his nose. There is a crunch under her palm, blood shoots from his nose covering his face and spraying her in the progress. 

Suddenly she’s on the floor hitting the ground hard. The impact jolts the rage and adrenaline out of her, leaving her crumpled on the floor, as gasping sobbing mess. The world comes back into focus around her, there is shouting swearing the sound of a struggle somewhere behind her. 

There are hands on her face titling it upwards. Pandora squeezes her eyes shut, unable to meet to gaze of whoever is touching her. 

“Pandora open those pretty eyes for me.” 

His voice is soft as soft as Negan’s voice can get, anyway. Under that softness there is command though, so she complies opening her eyes to look at him. 

“There we go.” Negan stares at her, silent for a few seconds. Her eyes scan his face through the tears. There is no rage there, maybe just maybe she can even see concern. “What happened Princess?” 

“I, I, I, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Her brain is a jumble of words and images, it’s hard to shift through. “Please, please, please.” 

She’s begging for what she doesn’t know but she’s begging. Her hand reached out clinging to the material of his jacket with desperate strength. 

“I ain’t mad at you Princess, Michael poked the bear, he deserved it.” 

That makes little sense to her, so it can’t be right. So, she keeps begging keeps crying until she is sure there isn’t any air in her lungs. 

“Princess take a breath now, it’s all right.” Negan tries to calm her. His hands on her shoulders tighten their grip a fraction. 

“I, I, I didn’t mean to hit him.” Pandora gasps her voice choked sobs. “Maggie, it’s my fault. It’s my fault, my fault.” 

She rocks back slightly one hand gripping her wrist rubbing angrily at the skin.  Negan tries to stop her, she only screams shoving his hands away. Her nails drag against her skin leaving red lines. She doesn’t see him anymore. She’s in the woods now hands in her body tearing at her clothes hungry for her skin. Her arm swings out connecting with something hard a grunt echoing around her.

“God fucking damn it, get her something!” 

There is some movement behind her maybe, but she can’t see. Pandora isn’t there she’s somewhere else somewhere darker. There are still hands on her, she is still screaming.

“Shh, now Princess it’s gonna be ok.” 

“We use this sometimes when it’s bad.” 

There is the all too familiar pin prick in her arm, then the fight is gone and the panic is gone, and she’s slipping forward into Negan’s waiting arms. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sor….” She doesn’t get the last one out before she slips into the darkness. 

Pandora dreams hard, dreams of the line up, of kneeling in the dirt listening to Maggie scream. Now all she hears is Maggie screaming, the sound of her calling for her dead husband fills her head. 

She sees nothing else, to her left and to her right is empty. The darkness is heavy her pressing down around her. It blocks out all light leaving her staring into nothing. She hears them though her group, a tangled mixed of screaming, crying and Daryl shouting for Negan not to touch her. 

It different this time kneeling in the dirt Negan appears. A light behind him outlines his frame as he reaches out to touch her face. His voice is soft reassuring. He whispers to her, telling her to breath. This isn’t the Negan she knows, this is a different man. The Negan in her dreams smiles at her whisper sweet things to her, telling her it will be ok. 

Leaning down in the dirt he touches her face, cupping her gently. “I take care of you remember Princess?”

Negan is gone disappearing like smoke away into the darkness. Pandora is alone now leaning down and presses her forehead to the cold damp earth to cry.

Sunlight cuts through the glass of the window, bright shafts cutting into her closed lids. She tightens her eyes shut again and counts to ten before opening them. Pandora is laying across the front seat of the truck she came in. Laying on her side she stretches her fingers out, feeling the warmed leather under her. She can't see through the windows laying like this, only able to look at the back to the leather seats she faces. 

The window must be open, a breeze tickled he hair on the back of her neck and carries a muffled conversation in it. 

“Ah wanted to ask now that you know we can follow the rules," 

“Yes?”

“Id like to ask if Daryl and Pandora can stay.” 

“Not happening, especially not with the Princess. But maybe Daryl can plead his case, maybe Daryl can sway me.”

At sound of Daryl’s name, she feels a tug in her chest. An invisible string she pictures being attached to them both pulls her upwards. Her body moves slow, the world swims in her vision as she pulls her head up. Only when she presses her forehead to the cold glass does the world stop spinning. In the glass she catches her own reflection brown eyes searching for Daryl. She finds him standing silent behind Negan, almost too fast for her to see his gaze flicks up to her then it’s back on the ground.  

“Daryl?” There is a pause followed by Negan laughing to himself. “Well you tried. I think him and the Princess are a package deal here Rick.” 

Pandora shuts her eyes then screwing them tight against the tears collecting behind her lids. She would do the same thing she tells herself, she would not leave him given the option. Negan would never ask her though. If he did, she would stay with Negan, stay to make sure Daryl is ok. 

It is a losing battle against the tears they stream down her face in wet tracks. Outside movement floats towards her, but the urge to watch is gone replaced by a gaping sense of loss.  It aches, it makes her want to curl back into herself and waste away. Whatever drugs he gave her are still swimming in her veins, they allow her to waste so much time in what feels like the blink of a second.

The next sound she hears is a light tap in the window where her head is still resting. Her eyes flicker open to come face to face with Negan grinning at her. 

“Watch out there Princess.” 

Her eyes track his movements, Negan doesn't open the door she leaning on instead he goes around to the other side. Opening the driver side door he slides inside the truck leaving only inches of space between them. Pandora’s body doesn’t react to him, no tightness of muscles no turning in her stomach. She guesses somewhere drugs are still swimming in her veins. 

Someone else slides into the driver’s seat and they are off. Despite herself Pandora turns her gaze to the window again and watching Rick as they drive off. He catches her gaze for only a second and something twists in his face, it’s too broken and she needs to look away not ready to see that. 

Hands move some heavy strands of hair from her face. Pandora turns her head to the side, Negan curls a strand of hair in his fingers. 

“You were good today Princess.” Negan mutters letting the hair drop from his fingers. He moves his hand then letting it come to rest on her thigh. “I know it was hard for you and you behaved so well.” 

She doesn’t answer can seem to think past his hand resting on her leg. Head snapping down she fixates on where he is touching her. She doesn’t move though knows that she needs to be good to stay out of the box. There is still a haze in the around her as if she is watching the world through a thin film. 

“Maybe I’ll let you have a treat tomorrow. What do you think?”

There is a moment of silence and his hands squeezes her tight lightly. That brings her back to the present moment keeps her from floating too far away. 

“That would be nice.” Pandora whispered. Her eyes stayed down cast refusing to rise to meet him. 

“I’m proud of you Princess, you’ve learned so well.” 

He’s stops then spending the rest of the ride in silence. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? what did you all think? Please tell me what you think. I love feedback. Be nice to me please! I'm Beta-less and will be from now on I think!


	38. Good Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this story is not forgotten! I have spent so much time trying to find a Beta reader that I finally gave up. I tried to edit the best I could but any mistakes are all mine. I have to say it is breaking my heart to be so mean to our little Pandora, but here we are anyway!

Negan leads her to her room in silence, people drop to their knees as they pass.  Her head is a mess, a swirl of thoughts and emotions she doesn ’ t have the strength to sort them out. As they walk Negan slips closer to her draping his arm over her shoulder.  Pandora doesn"t speak only allows the contact to trigger a sag in her bones. She melts into him for a moment. it's not like it is with Daryl, but a touch ground her keeps her here in this moment. Negan takes her silence for consent and pulls her closer. 

“You were such a good girl today Princess.” His whispers it in her ear, tickles her hair with his breath. “You were so damn good.” 

She doesn't answer and they lapse back into silence, thick and stifling. Pandora behaved so well and no one got hurt.  She did everything they told her and everyone she loves stayed safe. It's easy to keep them safe, she doesn't have much else to offer so she can do this for them.

Back in her room her body feels heavy, and the bed calls to her with its  sweet softness. Stepping forward, she lets her feet carry her towards the bed. Her fingers brush the soft covers. 

“You want to sleep Princess?” 

Blinking hard she turns only to see Negan standing over her. His face has the hard lines removed he reaches out for her fingers stroking her chin. She can ’ t feel his skin he is wearing the leather gloves, but she can feel the heat of him through the material. 

She can't answer him only nods her head hoping he sees it. He does, and she is surprised the tenderness he uses to help her undress. He takes her boots first placing them next the bed, the skirt is next followed by the second top. Leaving her in nothing but tight and a tank top. Despite the weariness in her bones she doesn ’ t miss the way his eyes skim over her, or the spark of hunger she sees in them. 

That has her moving on her own, slipping her frame under the sheets to escape his gaze. Glancing up she finds Negan still watching her an unreadable look spreading across his face. 

“Sleep tight Princess.” 

He's gone then shutting the door behind him all without making a sound. In the darkness her mind wanders, she misses home, misses Daryl. Yet she can ’ t shake something deep inside her that seems rested here, calm. It hard to understand, and it hurts her head to think about it.  Negan is nice to her, when she ’s good , and now she ’ s always good. 

 

Waking happens with Pandora gasping for breath and shaking. She ’ s not screaming but her chest heaves in shuddering gasping breaths.  Sheets are tangled around her leg, fabric pulled tight like gripping fingers. Gasping she rips them off leaving them pulled down around her waist. 

In the darkness of her room the silence  is only broken by the sound of her ragged breathing. A long ago memory comes back to her, she ’ s with Daryl and she is counting as she breathes. In, one, two, three, four, out one, two, three, four. It takes a few times, she imagines it Daryl sitting next to her hands held tight in his own helping her calm down. It ’ s easy to push it away though, easy to forget it hurts less this way. 

Outside the window the sky is lightning, stars being chased away by sunlight. The grey is being replaced by hues of pink and purple. The sky is clear and she can see for miles and miles. down the highway filled with empty cars. It seems so terrible that something as beautiful as this sunrise can exist when the world is so ugly. 

Sleep won ’ t come back to her, Pandora has done this dance before and she knows. She doesn ’ t have the urge to waste away anymore. Instead she wants to move wants to be a person again, instead of a shaking mass of drugs and tears. 

“Shower.” She tells herself out loud. Lifting the blankets off she feels the cold chill of the air against her legs. Some time in the night her tights had rolled up to her knees. Pandora wonders if she was screaming, she must have been if the state of her clothes is any clue. 

Pandora makes her way to the shower, at a pace slower than she would have liked. This time with the door shut she strips and examines herself. Thin black string holds her wound closed. She must be do for  an appointment with the doctor here soon to have them removed. Sighing she allows her fingers to trail over the wound. Her ribs stick out from under caramel skin, all hard sharp edges. There isn ’ t a single inch of extra fat anywhere she touches. Pandora is nothing more than a skeleton now, a thin layer of muscle still visible under the skin. 

There still isn ’ t a mirror in the bathroom, she can ’ t remember the last time she saw her own face in one. If her body is any clue her face  can’ t be much better. Before all of this she was doing better working hard gaining weight, all her hard work has vanished in her time within these walls. 

In the shower she turns the water up as hot as it goes. It ’ s warmer than the last time she was in here. It ’ s relaxing for once. The warm water melts the tension in the muscles. In the glass of the shower she sees her own reflection. It ’ s as frightening as she thought. Her face seems sunken  the round shape she had before she came here is gone . Leaving only sharp angled cheekbones and dark under eye circles. Pandora finishes without looking at herself again.

In the room she stands in front of the closet finger gripping the towel against her chest. The moment she opens the door though some tension melts away. Everything inside is different. The closet is now full of pants, legging, jeans there isn't a skirt in sight. The tops are different too, t-shirts, sweaters, long sleeves enough for her to layer hide her body under. 

Dressed in dark jeans and a dark blue sweater her stomach growls, reminding her she isn ’ t a skeleton after all . It ’ s part of the problem this getting lost in her own head forgetting to eat. It is getting better she is more aware these days because she has to do. Because despite everything it ’ s still dangerous here. 

Pandora isn't even sure there is anything to eat in here. Sighing she turns and explored the kitchen something she should have done before now, anyway. When she opens the cupboard, there is an assortment of dried food. Some oatmeal, cereal, soup cans, a few boxes of Mac and cheese. 

She goes for the oatmeal, but has to read the package on how to make it. Daryl always cooked for her or Carol,  housekeeping was not her strongest suit. Too lost in her own head half the time to remember to eat let alone to cook something. 

 

Once it's all said and done, she finds herself back in the high-backed chair at the window taking in the sanctuary waking up for the day. Somewhere below her men mulled about checking cars.  Turning to the right she tried to track movement feeling to stitches tug. Gritting her teeth against the discomfort she heads for the door. At first her knock is nothing more than a tap, the second time her knuckles wrap harder. Leaning back she waited the door swung open a bald man in the other side 

“What?” 

“I, I, I need to see the doctor.” 

The man stared down at her glaring. He doesn ’ t give her an answer only shuts the door in her face hard enough she feels the vibration in her bones. From her side of the door she could hear a muttered conversation. She can't make out the words but hears the lulls of  a voices . 

Pandora steps back a few steps putting  space between her and door. Her arms snake around her middle squeezing with a firm pressure.  It makes the stitches at her side pull at her skin tugging at where the skin has already fused together. Working her fingers under her shirt she rubs the string holding her skin together. It's smooth where it's exposed and the cut feels smooth the  trama it endured has vanished.  

“Ok let ’ s go.” The bald man reached out for her, meaty hand closing on her upper arm. He makes the move to pull her towards him. He had appeared there, no sound to warn her. She had gotten lost again and hadn ’ t even heard him come in. 

Pandora ’ s body goes into flight mode the second he touches her. Fireworks go off in her brain, jerking her arm free she stumbles backwards away from him. 

“What the fuck, I said let's go.” 

She only stars at him, taking steps backwards back into her room. This isn't right when she needs to go somewhere Negan comes to get her. She  is safe with him, she could not say the same for his men. 

“No, no, no,” She stammered. “ You have to get Negan.” 

The bald man steps in closer to her room, “He ’ s too busy to baby sit  some  crazy bitch.” His tone is harsh hand reaching out again for her. 

She doesn't allow it though, side stepping his outstretched hand she skirts past him. The door is wide open and for whatever reason she thinks this is a good idea, leaving the room.  The full thought process of what might happen when Pandora steps past the threshold is lost when she moves. 

Dancing past the bald man she is out the door in a flash, behind her she hears shouts and cursing. Once in the hall there is another man rushing towards her, logical thought  is now replaced by panic. The hall in front of her room is open to below. Her hands grip the railing and before she can think she is lowering herself onto the lower level. 

There is more force behind her movement when she jumps over the railing, and the moment her feet hit the ground tiny lightning bolts of pain shoot up her legs. This hallway looks just like the one she had left. There is no defining features to mark it, a lightning bolt strikes her brain she has no idea where she's going. 

“Princess?” The voice should make her flinch. It should induce fear. Instead the tension she was carrying in her shoulders melts, and she feels sick over it. He keeps her safe though, he promised he would. “What are you doing out here?” 

Turning to face Negan she closes the distance in a few  quick steps. Pandora stands frozen in front of him, watching him uncross his arms from his chest. Behind her the doors to the stairs fling open two men come spilling out swearing and screaming. 

“What happened?” Negan has stopped looking at her and is staring at the men who just came stumbling into the hallway. He turns back to her then, flicking his fingers for her to come closer. She does as he tells her, and when he puts an arm around her, she doesn't go stiff. Something else happens, he ’ s warm and her muscles sag under his weight. 

The bald man is the one step up, hand resting in his gun. “She said she wanted to go to the Doctor. So I opened the door to take her, and she lost her shit. I went to grab her, and she ran.”

Negan's fingers drum against her arm, the feeling rattles her bones.  He looks down at her then back to the man standing in  front of them .

“Well now what's the rule with her fuckhead?” He sneers now, fingers tightening his hold on her.

“Well, well not to touch her but ... but.” 

“Then why did you fucking touch her?” Negan's shout thunders around her. But that rage he summoned all for her is comforting. It's warm and real, and she leans into him. 

Pandora kept her head down, eyes locked to the floor. There is silence though and for a second she thinks they are waiting for her to speak her eyes snap up to them. The men only glare at her from their lowered heads.

“I, I, I.” The man can't answer he only bows his head lower. 

“Get the fuck out of my sight.” 

The men rush away then footsteps getting softer. 

“Come on now Princess, let ’ s go to the doctor.” 

The light in medical are too bright. When she's laying there on her back the lights shine too bright in her eyes. She screws her eyes shut more aware now if the doctors hands on her. She doesn't quite remember getting here. No, she remembers the hallway, remembers Negan shouting at the men who tried to touch her, then just here. 

“This will numb the area.”  The doctors voice snaps her back to the present moment. Pandora gets the feeling he isn't talking to her though, maybe this is a show for Negan.

The spray is cold making her go stiff for a second, a tingling spreads then she feels nothing. She panics turning her head until she is watching him removing the stitches. He cuts and tugs out the little bits of string. 

“It will scar.” The doctor mutters stripping off his gloves. He looks up at Negan then after his eyes do one more sweep of her. Pandora lays there still, hands flexing into fists. She knows how to  be good , this is a chance to show him. 

“She ’ s too skinny.” He mutters eyes skimming over her. Then he is turning away from her, she doesn't turn her head but hears him shifting around somewhere behind her. 

when he is in her field of vision again, there is a blue and white cardboard box in his hands. She can ’ t quite make out what it says. 

“Protein shakes drink one every day.” He tells her, but he tells Negan too. One of his man step forward and take the shakes in his arms. The Doctor add two bottles of pills, one for  everyday , one for when it gets rough.  The man takes those too, then disappears toward her room. 

“Come on Pandora.” Negan reaches for her. Helps her up from the bed. He doesn't stop touching her, always a hand somewhere an arm over her. She used to it now, almost feels different when he isn't touching her. 

Negan ’ s rests on the small of back, leading her down the hall. A door opened, and she is meet with steps going up, and up and up and up and up. She losses count of how many times stairs they take then the air changes cool and crisp on her skin.

Pandora stops sucking in a cold breath of fresh air, it ’ s so perfect its overwhelming tears prickle her vision. She doesn't dare look up, keeps her eyes down on the ground. The last time he brought her outside it was to watch his men beat Daryl. She wouldn't make she same mistakes twice. Her heart hammers against her rib cage threatening to burst out onto the floor. 

“Come ’ re sit down.” Negan ’ s voice in in her ear, his hands are on her guiding her body her move with him. Before she knows it he is lowering her, and she ’ s being got by  the feeling of softness. “Sit here with Tanya Princess. Tanya keep her with you. I ’ ll come back later.”

Pandora feels the surface shift beside her, she looks up just in time to watch Negan leave. Beside her is a young woman in a black dress, black hair pulled back away from her face. The women  doesn’ t speak to her, so Pandora looks away. 

She takes a moment to see where Negan left her. They are on the roof, above her head is a network for glass panels. They don ’ t stop at the roof but continue down to make up the walls. It's a huge greenhouse. Behind her there is a mini garden, planters lined up on the walls. Someone is working back there she can't see them but hears the rustle of clothes as they move. 

She sits with the other women on plush sofas. This area made to look like a backyard patio. With chairs small tables, a few bookshelves. It's nice. Pandora doesn't mind sitting here away from the noise of the world. It's warmer here to sun streaming in through the tall high windows. 

“I ’ m Tanya.” The woman announces turning her head in Pandora's direction, covering her eyes from the rays of the sun. 

Pandora doesn't hide her face she titles it upward letting her skin soak it up while she can. There is a few seconds of silence that pass between them before she can answer. 

“Pandora.” 

“You from the new place right? You came with that guy.” 

“Came?” Pandora didn't understand why she used that word came, she didn't come here not by choice. The word roles off the girls tongue and Pandora can see the curiosity sparking in her eyes. “They took me.”

Tanya sits up hand lowered from her eyes with a careful control. She is staring at Pandora form under her bangs, she can feel the heat of her eyes. 

“No. That's not how it happens you  choose to  be here. Negan  doesn’t want anyone here who doesn ’ t want to be here.” 

“I  didn't choose anything , he took me, me and my….” she can't finish the sentence because  boyfriend is not the word she thinks fits. It ’ s too plain to simple to explain that he is her entire world.  So she says nothing just lets the end of the sentence hang there between them. 

“It ’ s too hot let ’ s go.” Tanya stands not daring to meet her eyes but heads for the door it take them back inside. Her hands smooth down the sides of her dress as she saunters to the door.

Pandora pictures herself screaming at Tanya to fuck off. Refusing to leave  this sun lit mini paradise. She doesn't though,  no instead she stands and follows the shorter women back inside. Because she's trying to  be good , because good girls stay out of the box. 

This time Pandora watches makes notes of where they turn, which doors they open, who is where. She almost doesn't blink as she tries to commit everything to memory. Just in case, she tells herself, it just in case. They go to the floor with her room but walk down the hallway more. 

They walk past her door down the hallway. There is a door with a man standing in  front of it . He opened it for them and when they step through, there are only more doors. These doors are different though they are sleek painted wood. To her right there is a set of  double doors open the hallway, Tanya turns to enter. 

The room she enters is the picture of luxury. Pandora knows this room must belong to Negan's wives, no one else here lived like this.  Plush sofas and high backs chairs fill the room. 

Thick curtains cover the walls, chandeliers hang from the ceiling all the little light bulbs shaped to look like candle flames. They have the biggest windows here she had seen so far, they paint the glass over and dirty but it still offers more light than anywhere Pandora has seen anywhere else. They are half covered though it thick coloured drapes. 

Her eyes drift around again trying to take in everything. She doesn't understand this room, this luxury is out of place here at the end of the world. 

“What is she doing here?” Pandora turned to find the source of the voice. 

On one of the sofa ’ s Sherry sits beside a crying blond girl. The other girl looks young early 20 ’ s. The younger girl is half curled into herself, tears streaming down her face. They  aren’ t speaking, not that the tiny blond girl could talk with how hard she was crying.

“Negan ’ s making me babysit his new pet.” Tanya speaks from the bar two glasses in front of her and vodka in her hand. 

“Her names Pandora.” Sherry looks to Pandora. 

A tremble makes it home in her bones now, she isn't sure about these women, his wives. What do they think of her? Do they think like Tanya wonder why she  chose to be here. Why are they here? 

“Here  Pan-dor-a. ” Tanya draws her name out putting emphasis on each syllable.  

Pandora moves to the bar taking the glass in her hands. It's good to have something to hold on to something to stop the shaking. 

In two gulps  it was gone , a fire burning in her belly and a lightness in her limbs. Some tension uncoils in her gut, burned away by the fire. 

There was a noise behind her then the shifting of feet. Pandora turns her head to find the source of the sound. Negan stands in the doorway with someone beside him. It takes a second for her register their new guest, but when she blinks Carls face comes into focus and the pain in her chest is shattering. 

Pandora ’ s shoulders hunch her body trying to curl into itself. What is he doing here, he should  be home safe behind the  walls. Carl shouldn't be here, it's not safe for him here. Carl doesn know the rules. 

 

“Ladies! Don ’ t mind the kid.” Negan laughs then turns to Carl muttering something.  

She watches horrified as Negan whispers something to Carl, she can't make it out. Tanya comes back walking in front of her, there is  sound of clinking glass then she looked down. 

“Looks like you going to need this.” 

The drink Tanya pour in her cup is more pink than red this time and smells more like vodka than cranberries. It doesn't stop Pandora though she downs the drink in two sips again. 

Tanya chuckles a low small thing removing the now empty glass form her hand leaving again. “Atta girl.” The other women muttered under her breath as she leaves. 

There is still a pit in her chest, a wide gaping hole of fear. Her eyes shoot up to Carl, he ’ s watching her. Her mouth opens, then closes, no sounds comes out she gasps like a fish out of water. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute, dear wife?” 

Pandora isn't sure which of the women in the room he is talking too until she hears shuffling to her right. Sherry who is still beside the crying woman gets up and heads for Negan. 

Her head is spinning now, too much drinking not enough food in her stomach. 

“Pandora?” 

Her head snap up meeting Carl's gaze. There is something in his face, he wants to say more she can tell. She has a million questions bumping and flying in her brain, too fast to pin down. It doesn't matter though there isn't enough time, and that not something she should do. No she doesn ’ t speak to him, she remembers that from before, from Alexandra when no one could speak to her. 

So instead she lowers her eyes ignores the pain that flashes across his face as she does so. It's the right thing, she doesn't want to go back in the box, talking to Carl might put her back in the box. 

“Pandora?” Carl calls her again, his voice more pained than the first time. 

“Give it up kid, she ’ s not  gonna talk unless she gets permission.” 

There is a silence around her now, save for only the hushed conversation at the bar. Pandora doesn't dare look up again, can't bring herself to face Carl. This new Pandora isn ’ t the one she wants him to see not now. 

There are heavy foot falls coming towards her now, she goes stiff. Negan stops in front of her, filling her field of vision with his lower half. 

“Well now Princess enjoying your time with the girls?” He kneels down in front of her fingers feather light on her chin. That's how he gets her to look up, it's how he always gets her to look. 

“It ’ s nice, thank you for letting me come here.” 

Negan laughs loud and boisterous letting his hand fall from her face. “That is a damn fine answer Princess. You can talk to the kid of you want.” 

Negan turns away from her then she looks up watching him head for the crying girl. She doesn't care about their conversation instead she turns to Carl who stands now with a beer in hand. The sight of him bring tears to her eyes until he is a figure swimming in water. 

He moves to her taking the seat on the sofa, he leaves a space between them. Pandora isn't having it through, the vodka numbs everything and she needs to feel something. So she reached out fingers a vice like grip on him. Carl only looks down at their intertwined fingers not speaking. 

“I ’ m ok.” She whispers. 

“You not ok Pandora.” Carl ’ s voice is tight, laced with rage. “He ’ s keeping you here, like your some kind of pet.” 

Pandora blinks back her tears, he doesn't understand he can ’ t he hasn't been here. 

“It ’ s fine, I promise.” She can explain everything to him there isn't enough time to make him see. 

“Pandora ... I…” 

“Stop, please.” She pulls her hand away from his, but Carl doesn ’ t let her. He only holds her tighter, and that has the resolve crumbling away. Pandora leans into him resting her head on his shoulder. Alcohol makes her anxiety melt away, shifts her perspective on the world. 

There is more movement a head of her near the middle of the room, maybe. But she doesn look up keeps her eyes down on her and Carl's intertwined fingers. 

“Carl will you get that tray for me?” 

Pandora ’ s eyes snapped up, Daryl and Dwight stood in the open doorway. her heart stops when she sees him standing there a tray of food in his hands. Her frame jerks for a second trying to get closer to him. But she has enough sense to hold herself still against the urge. 

Carl steps up to take the tray she watches him take it to the tray and put in on the table in front of her.  She reached out taking something,  a bit of  cheese to roll in her fingers. He takes his spot back beside her, letting her lean on him again. 

“Why do you got them here?” Daryl is asking Negan she is sure, but when she looks up, she finds him staring at her. She pales under his gaze shifting her eyes away.

“Whoa! What we talk about when you ’ re not here is none of your business.” Negan leans back glancing at Sherry for a second. “Do not make me put this tooth book into the only eye he has.” Negan flicks to toothpick away leaning back. “You go with Dwight, he ’ ll get you a mop.  Dwighty boy fire up that furnace. I ’ ll be down in a few. Time for a little  deja view. Come on, kid.”

 

Carl detaches himself from her leaving her  saging into the space he left. She looks up catching them leaving the room. Daryl shift his gaze from them to her sitting almost curled into herself. They stare at each other for a few  long seconds, she feels herself leaning into him. Before she gets too close Dwight is behind him pulling him away by the back of his shirt. 

She lunges for him as Dwight turns him to head out of the room. Someone is behind her though a hand gripping her shirt, pulling her back to standing up right. 

“Control yourself.” Tanya whispered her voice tight with anger. “You will make the rest of us look bad.” 

Pandora doesn ’ t understand but she can move, and it's too late. The doorway is empty now. Tanya lets her go leaving Pandora standing in the middle of the room holding her chest. The woman go back to ignoring her. Her head swims, and thoughts don ’ t seem to make sense. She wants to be away from here, away from these women with their little black dresses. She sees herself so easily here, and it frightening. How she breaks and bends. 

Spinning on her heels she heads for the open doorway, at the end of the hallway there is the steel door she came in from. The distance is closed in a few short steps, but she just stands there for a second staring.  Her left hand lays flat of the cold steel for a second until curling into a fist and knocking. 

The door is yanked up before she can even catch her breath. 

A bald man is looking at her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I want to go back to my room.” 

The bald man rolls his eyes they have done this dance before the  two of them . This time he doesn't hesitate only opens the door and stands back for her to  step outside. 

“Let's go then.”

The walk to her room is short and spent all in silence, even when they get to her door they don't speak only nod at each other before she steps inside.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well?!?! Tell me what you think? Seriously I love to hear from you guys! Expect an update soon! Promise.


	39. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So can I just say how much I try and edit these for you guys? Sometimes my grammar sucks that's just my brain, but nevertheless here I am trying to give you guys the best. 
> 
> I must warn you there is heartbreak to come, I am not the best at happy. You have been warned.

The next thing Pandora remembers is waking up.  The sun is high and bright in her room cutting through the darkness behind her eyes. Light makes her see shadows and  colours behind her eyes; she lays there eyes still closed letting the changing  colours shift and move. It time to wake up, and even if everything screams at her to stay in bed, she still pulls herself up. She doesn't remember getting in bed, remembers nothing after stepping into her room. But things happened after that. Her clothes are different, hair a thick mess from being damp, she isn't hungry either. 

 

She doesn't remember getting here or any of the steps before she got here, to the bed.  She remembers leaving the room of all of Negan's wives then nothing being here in her bed. It didn't matter she thought pulling herself up into a sitting position. When the world doesn't move her shift around her, she stretches her arms above her head. 

 

Pandora heads for the bathroom first, spends a few  quiet moments staring at her own reflection. There is a mirror here again, a long panel of glass stretching over the sink. Her face does not reflect the same torture as before, deep worry lines fading away.  Every day it’s easier , every time she wakes up it ’ s easy to remember how to act what to say, what to do.  It shows somehow in her face, the acceptance. She thinks she should be in a full panic at this point rebelling against the ease to which she  is accepting her new role.  It doesn ’ t though, this is not a bad place, no one has tried to touch her, she  is feed taken care of, and for the most part left alone.  It could be worse, she has been in worse. 

 

Pandora tries to wrestle a brush through her hair, but it dried thick overnight. A large curled halo around her face. It is a losing battle and instead of fight her hair she binds it snug in a braid that falls down her back. At the sink she fills her hands with lukewarm water and lets it run over her face in ribbons. There is a hand towel folded at her right using it to dry her face before leaving the bathroom. 

 

She dresses in jeans and a light pink sweater; she layered her clothes, sports bra, tank top, and the sweater. Pandora will thank him for the new clothes she decides, it is a nice thing he did. He didn't have to, she would have worn whatever was in there having no other choice. But Negan is nice to her when she ’s good . 

 

At the kitchen table she tugs her feet into the black lace up boots she has been given when a knock sounds on the door. There is a moment of panic but she knows, he isn't here. Negan doesn't knock, and she ’ s more panicked knowing it isn't him. 

 

“Um come in.” She calls out leaning on the countertop to her left..

 

For a second there is nothing, and when the door  finally  opens Sherry is standing in the hallway arms full. One arm hold two bags, the other hand is balancing in what look like a casserole dish. For a while Sherry doesn't speak only unloads the bags putting everything away. The casserole dish sits on the off white counter of her tiny kitchen. Steam curls from the top, the smell of egg and cooked veggies filling the space of her room.

 

There is something different in the way she is carrying herself today, or maybe something is different in the way Pandora is looking at her. She knows now, knows why all these women choose this life. She didn ’ t choose her in the same way they did, but she  made a choice . A choice to do what  she is told , to fit herself into the mild Negan made for her. All the reason ’ s are different, she does it to stay sane to wait for an after, to keep Daryl safe, to keep her friends safe. Sherry ’ s reasons are different and it doesn ’ t matter what happened before, this is who they are now.

 

“I'm sorry for what I said.” Pandora mutters moving to a high-back chair near the window. She tucks her legs under herself arms hugging her sides. “I didn't understand, I do now.” 

 

Sherry is frozen in the kitchen, one hand a white knuckled grip on the fridge handle. 

 

“We both have people we do it for.” The other women  finally  mutters closing the fridge door. She moves around the tiny kitchen more though, taking out two plates a serving of the casserole. She appears beside Pandora handing her a plate and sinking into the empty chair. 

 

Pandora takes a bite the moment Sherry put\s it in her hands. It's warm still, a wonderful egg casserole on a bed of potatoes. They eat in silence for a while until Sherry sets her plate down on her lap. 

 

“It never  really  gets easier.” Sherry whispers from the kitchen her back still turned to Pandora. 

“Never?”  Pandora asks tilting her head towards the other woman, her fingers curl around the fork. 

 

Sherry meets her gaze eyes swimming in the film of tears. The fork spills from her fingers catering onto the plate. Sherry must be wrong, it's already feeling easier for her. Easier to forget to do what  she is told , to live in the now where Negan keeps her safe. 

 

“Get someone to bring you lunch later if you don't want to make anything.” 

 

Pandora blinks Sherry is already standing in her kitchen, washing their plates. It makes her stop and look down at her own hands,  her plate is gone . No, where did that time just go. She blinks trying to pull herself out of her own head. She wants to ask if the other women is sure about it not getting easier that can't be right. What if wrong with her if she finds it  easy.

 

“Wait, Sherry... I," 

 

Sherry is already gone, steel door slamming shut behind her. Pandora can ’ t help but think maybe she doesn't want to be alone. She is left wondering if Negan ’ s wives always stay in that room during the day.  Shaking her head, she turns her head back to the window. She stays there in the high-backed chair, curling her legs into her chest. 

 

She thinks about Daryl now, finds him floating in her head somehow.  Remembering his face when he saw her sitting among Negan ’ s wives. There was a flash of something in his eyes, an emotion she hadn't quite seen before. She can't quite make it out though.  He should be nothing but proud of her, she is doing just what he asked her to living. She isn't sure he understood the cost of what he had asked.

 

Outside the sky darkens, and a grumbling starts in her stomach. She can't remember the last time she ate, but she was sure it was brighter outside when she did.  Peeling herself out of the chair she heads for the door, knocking on it. She doesn't even bother to go to the kitchen, already deciding she doesn't want to cook. 

 

It takes a second but someone opens it, the bald man from both times before. She needs to learn his name she thinks when she looks at him, she had seen him almost every time she opened the door. 

 

“Can I get something to eat?” Pandora asks her voice coming in a quick stream. “And some wine please.” 

 

The bald man just shakes his head in a way of answer shutting the door on her. He will get it she knows he will. He has already been on the other end of Negan ’ s rage. There isn't a knock when the door opens this time, it  just  opens and the man enters again carrying her plate with a bottle of red wine in the other hand.  

 

“Here you go Princess.” He leaves then she hears the lock click back into place when the door  is shut . 

 

The food  is good , stewed meat on rice with some fresh tomato on the side. She eats it all leaves the plate in the sink before she opens the wine. It's not a cork, just a twist off. She twisted it pouring some into a mug she found in the cabinet. There are no wine glasses that must have been something they decided was not important. 

 

Pandora takes a bottle and mug in one hand, pulling a blanket off the bed as she walks past it. She heads for the high-backed chair her new  favorite spot. The blanket goes over her legs as she curls them under her. This chair reminds her of home the most. Before she knows it, she's on her third glass and the door is  opening behind her. 

 

“Well, Well, when Dave said he brought you wine I wasn't sure he was serious.” The light from the open door eliminates Negan ’ s frame for a second before he closes it, plunging the room back into darkness. 

 

Pandora rolls her head to the side glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Come try it, it ’ s good.” The words roll off her tongue with an ease  usually  saved for Daryl, but she  isn’t shocked . Negan gives a dark chuckle from behind her then goes silent moving with catlike grace to the other chair at her side. 

 

“You  gonna share that Princess?” He asks holding a mug out towards her. Pandora reached for the bottle filling the mug more than half way. 

 

With her own mug now refilled she peers at him over the rim, “Thank you for the clothes. It ’ s all much better.” 

 

Negan takes a sip and nods turning away from her. His eyes trace  the movement of the lights under her window. 

 

“This room faces the front, one of my  favorite views. Watching the machine work.” He takes another sip lashings into silence. 

 

“Thank you for letting me stay here.”

 

“Your earned it by  being good .” 

 

Pandora only takes another drink before returning her chin to rest on her knees. 

 

“Dave's your new guy. He gets it.”

 

Pandora nods she thought that would be the case.  Knew there was a reason she had seen him since much today. 

 

“Knows not to touch the crazy girl next time?”

 

Negan chuckles, “There she is.” Negan shaking his head and smiles at her. He  really  looks at her in those moments, she feels it. 

 

“There who is?” She asked unable to help herself. Her voice had made itself known, and it doesn't seem to  be stepping away again soon. 

 

“Pandora.” Negan says taking another sip. “The girl behind all the other stuff.” 

 

Pandora rolls her eyes glancing away from him. “You scare me, can ’ t be me when I' m scared .” 

 

“You ’ re not scared now.” He comments leaning towards her reaching for the bottle. He fills his mug then leans in a breath away from her and refills her mug as well .  

 

“It's getting easier,” Pandora whispered.  

 

Negan only nods falling back in the comfortable silence. The sky outside has gotten darker, star brighten the expanse of darkness. The silence last for some  time, then Negan is clearing his throat. 

 

“I took the kid home.” Negan says after a while. “I did a good fucking thing, and those motherfuckers tried to shoot  me.” 

 

Pandora goes stiff, hands curling  tightly  around the mug still her hands. She wonders if  she will be punished for their actions. She has learned his moods change like the tides, so she waits for the other shoe to drop. 

 

“One of them made a bullet. Can you fucking believe that , they made a bullet for me.  I was pissed let me tell you Princess. But impressed that some fucking go  getters you used to live with.”  He pauses rubbing his chin. With her eyes locked to him she notices for the first time he's shaved. 

 

“I brought someone back here the one who made the bullet.” He looks up at her then. “I bet you know him Princess got a fucking mullet.” 

 

“Eugene.” Pandora answers right away. Better to be fast better to do everything he is asking of her, better to  be good . 

 

“That's right Princess. Eugene.” Negan grins rubbing his chin. He leans towards her one has one hand resting on her knee now. “How would you like a visit with him tomorrow?”

 

Pandora looks up at him and tried to pull her face into a smile, the nod she gives is small he sees it. His eyes blaze for a second, her cheeks  color from heat.  

 

“God damn Princess you are beautiful.” That makes her heart stop in her chest, a cold chill down her spine. “Thanks for the chat,” He reaches out taking her mug from her hand and adding it to the sink with his own. “Can ’ t wait to get to know you more.” 

 

Pandora falls asleep in the big chair. The wine does something to her dreams. Everything is lighter, she doesn't dream about the line up. She dreams about the campsite about building the fence higher with her sister and mother. She's laughing and she can't remember the last time she did that. 

 

When she wakes stiff still curled into a ball in the chair. She stretches her arms above her head, hearing the joints pop. She wakes up slow takes her time with her new routine. But she cleans today, makes the bed, wipes down the counters, it feels normal. 

 

She spends the day in the room with no visitors, a few times she gets up and goes to the door. She asks for different things, to go to the roof, to go see Negan or his wives. Every time she asks it's a no, and the door is closed in her face. 

 

When the sky darkens outside, she moves to the kitchen to make something to eat. She had to eat that was one rule. She cooks the Mac and cheese she finds in the cupboard. It's nice to do something like this, something human. She eats everything cleans the dishes and puts everything away before she leaves. She goes to the high-backed chair again watching the movement down below. 

 

This time she takes a book off the shelf with her, Brain on Fire. The front cover is bright, and it had caught her eye when she walked by. She doesn't open it though, instead her eye  is drawn to the activity down below. It looks like chaos different from anything she had ever seen before. Men move about shouting, black boxes held tight between near white fingers. Pandora leans forward she watches for a while until her chin dips to her chest and she falls asleep. 

 

The next morning she wakes to the sound of plates and movement in her tiny kitchen. Opening her eyes she sits in silence for a long second. Trying not to make noise she turns her head to look behind her.

 

Negan stands with his back to her putting food on two plates. He looks huge in her kitchen, hulking frame bent over her tiny strip of counter. She finds it so insane it's funny, and a laugh bubbles up in her chest and gets past her lips. Shoulders jerking her turns seeing her watching him from the chair, a small tugs the corner of his mouth. When he's done, he walks towards her setting a  plate in her lap lowering himself into the chair to her right.

 

“That ’ s a beautiful fucking sound.” Negan remarks staring at her so hard she feels the  colour rise in her cheeks. 

 

Her eyes snap away from his than turning rather to the plate off food on her lap. Scrambled eggs, with bits of peppers, and onions. There is a tiny bowl on the side of the plate, it ’ s filled with pure white whipped cream. It ’ s surrounded by strawberries and raspberries. 

 

“They wouldn't let me leave yesterday, not even to see you.” She tells him this through bite fulls of food. She eats the eggs first wanting to save the fruit and whipped cream for last. 

 

Negan is silent for a moment, “I had an interesting day yesterday Princess. Got up and someone had taken some of my shit. I was short a prisoner and a wife.”

 

Pandora  instantly  wishes she could take the remark go back to the silence between them. But it's too late her heart hammers  painfully  in her chest. The creams drips off the raspberry she is holding between her fingers. 

 

“Any idea how Daryl got out?” 

 

His words are a punch to her gut, air flowing out of her in a pained gasp. Daryl had gone, he left her here with Negan. She wants to cry feels is welling up inside her, but she refuses to let the tears come. Instead she digs her nails into the flesh of her arm, the pain is a lightning bolt of clarity. 

 

“I don't know.” She whispers keeping her eyes down on her hands. There is silence again and the tears roll down her cheeks. The plate justs sits in her lap now untouched. Hand shaking she puts the plate on the small table between the chairs. 

 

“He left you the first chance he got.” Negan's voice has something she can't  recognize in a touch of a smug undertone. “Bet that blows to shit.” 

 

She doesn't answer only tightened her grip on her arm, sure that soon her nails will draw blood. She needs that, the pitch and sting of cut skin Daryl left. He didn't even try to take her with him. She thinks back to what she was doing when we got away. Holed up in her room reading a book watching the world out the window. And Daryl had been running putting miles and miles between them. 

 

“I'll leave you to it Princess.” Negan stands then looking down at her. His eyes are slightly glassy and she can see her own reflection in them, a small crumpled thing. “Before I go, who are you?” 

 

“I'm Negan.” She whispers through her tears. 

 

“Yes you are, see nothing's changed.” 

 

Pandora doesn't hear him leave instead she curls into a ball in the chair and sobs.  Daryl was gone . First opportunity he had, he ran and didn't look back. Pandora  is left behind, left alive again. The pain in her chest is almost unbearable. It has her seeking to lessen it, running her nails up and down her arms leaving red lines in their wake. 

 

She spends the rest of the day in bed.  Alternating between sleeping and crying. Sleeping isn't peaceful tonight  her dreams are filled with Daryl leaving her.  Leaving her in every way she fears, leaving her with Negan, leaving her in a hoard of all her dead loved ones. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our poor little Pandora left behind. You didn't think I would make it that easy did you? How long have we been on this journey together? I promise in the dark recces of my brain there is a point to all of this. As always let me know what you think.


End file.
